Fire and Ice
by Alaina Irielle
Summary: COMPLETE A normal school year begins but with a revelation things are set to change for a 6th year Ravenclaw girl. What will this mean for her part in the war against Voldemort? And how will it affect her feelings for Snape?
1. Beginning Afresh

**Chapter 1 - Beginning Afresh**

_~ Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favour fire,  
But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice. ~  
-Robert Frost_

August the 18th could not have been a nicer day. The sun was shining brightly, as fluffy white clouds sailed across the blue sky. It was a shame that the good weather couldn't last throughout the year, but in London it would be a miracle if it lasted through the next day. Tamara Edgecombe smiled at the irony of the thought, as she twirled her spoon in the empty ice-cream dish. A trip to Florean Fortesque's ice-cream parlour had been on her list of things 'to do' as she waited for her best friend Jez to arrive, so that they could go shopping in Diagon Alley. After all, the new school year would begin in less than two weeks time, and they needed to be ready.

Her thoughts wandered, as the summer sun warmed her shoulders. She had endured five years of study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the last of which had been more painful than she cared to remember. But despite her best efforts, memories resurfaced anyway. A childhood of confusion and loneliness passed before her eyes. Her father's affair, the school play her parents hadn't come to watch her perform in, the achievements that hadn't been recognised, and the years of constant bullying at the hands of the devious Juliet Malone and her band of intrepid Slytherin followers…

Finally, in her fifth year, she had decided to make them all see exactly what she could do, and what she could accomplish. She had thrown herself, incessantly, into her school work. So much so that she had spent the better part of the year on the brink of physical exhaustion. Jez, terrified for Tamara's wellbeing, had watched her spiral into depression, and had given her constant efforts to trying to make her friend slow down. Efforts which had, of course, been fruitless. Tamara had managed to survive all but two of her exams. Having collapsed at the culmination of the predecessor, she had been rushed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. After a few days of recuperation, her therapist had set her on a course of antidepressant medication which was really just a modified form of the Draught of Peace. As soon as she had been released, however, she had secretly refused to take the medication. If she was going to get better, she was going to do it properly, and not with the aid of a drug doled out by the hospital to everyone who displayed the appropriate symptoms. Shuddering, slightly, she willed herself back into reality. She did not want to experience another year like the one that had just passed, nor did she want to bring back the pain by dwelling on it, endlessly.

All of a sudden, a pair of arms threw themselves over her shoulders and about her neck, in a playful hug. Her heart rate rising dramatically at the surprise, she turned to find her best friend Jez McKenzie grinning back at her. Tamara smiled weakly in return, allowing her friend to urge her to her feet.

"Come on, darl. Let's go shopping!" Jez prompted, enthusiastically.

"Ready when you are." Tamara replied. At once, Tamara produced a piece of parchment from her jeans pocket, and consulted it. "First on the list are the N.E.W.T level text books. Shall we get those first?"

"Oh, do we have to do that now? Can't we do the fun shopping first?" Jez pouted.

"The sooner we get the important things done, the more time we'll have to do the fun stuff." Tamara told her, adamantly. Reluctantly, Jez nodded, following Tamara back into Diagon Alley.

An hour or so later, Tamara consulted her list again.

"I just need to visit the apothecary to replenish some of my supplies, and then we're done."

Wandering past the various shelves of jars in the Apothecary a few minutes later, lost in thought, Tamara found herself colliding with a tall, strong, someone. As she turned to apologise, she realised that the someone was, in fact, Professor Severus Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master. Her voice failed her as her eyes locked with his inscrutable stare. She could almost feel the crimson red creep across her cheeks at his refusal to look away from her, or move out of her way. She hated the embarrassment that burned through her body. The last time she remembered seeing him was at the end of the Potions exam. Upon finishing, she had stood to leave. All she remembered about what happened next was her legs giving way beneath her, the impact of her body against the floor, and the scream of one of the students who had inevitably thought she had died. She remembered a blur of faces swimming in front of her eyes, as she had struggled to focus. Professor Snape's had been the only one she could make out. She remembered only the intense worry in his eyes, and then darkness had consumed her senses. She hated the embarrassment she felt at facing him for the first time since what had happened. She bowed her head in humiliation, but even as she did so his fingers reached out to lift her chin so that their eyes met once more. The significance of this one simple action burned through her entire being. She felt the words he wanted to tell her, even if he did not say them. He directed to her comfort, understanding, and even admiration at her strength. His sentiments shot through her, shaking her to her very core. But before she had collected herself once more, he was stepping past her, after no more than a moment had passed, leaving her with the strange burning sensation that had accrued from the moment and her proximity to him. She had never felt such a sensation before. It commanded the beat of her heart, and the pump of the blood in her veins. It was strange, indeed, but oddly delicious in its all encompassing snare. Once more, Jez shocked her back into reality.

"One would almost think you're attracted to him, the way you blushed just now." Jez whispered. Ignoring the playful jibe, Tamara pushed past her friend, as she began to gather what she needed, trying to empty her mind of what had just happened.

That evening, when Tamara arrived home, the first thing she did was shut herself safely in her room, and deposit the results of her shopping trip on the floor.

She hadn't been able to shake the scene in the Apothecary from her mind, no matter how much she had tried, even when she had allowed herself to descend into joining Jez in her jovial chatter. And now, alone in her room, there was nothing to stop her thoughts from taking charge.

She cast her memories back to the Apothecary. In her mind's eye, she could see him standing before her. She could almost feel the liquid motion with which he moved his hand and the warmth of his fingers against her skin as he lifted her head so that her gaze met his once more. And then there were the odd sensations she had felt charge through her body as he had gazed back at her, with his indecipherable expression.

Was it possible? Was she actually attracted to him, as Jez had suggested? Instantly she dismissed the idea. This was Severus Snape. The one teacher whom the student population uniformly despised. The teacher whose sour disposition and hateful attitude inspired fear and dread in all who crossed his path. It was impossible. There was no way anyone could be attracted to such a man… Except that she was.

Underneath the stone cold of his demeanour, and his less than perfect appearance, was something which he consistently refused to show anyone, and she had been fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it twice now. Maybe she could give it a chance; see if she couldn't catch another glimpse of what she had seen in him when she had collapsed at the end of her Potions exam and again today.

Satisfied with the solution she had come up with, she selected one of her well-thumbed C.S. Lewis books and settled into the soft cushions on her bed, Puccini's beautiful melodies sailing towards her from the CD player. The atmosphere was perfect, lulling her into a sense of peace she had not felt for a long time.

Tamara dashed from her room, straightening her tie as she skidded into the dining room. She couldn't afford to be late.

"Tamara, if you don't hurry up, you're going to be late." Her Mother scolded. Tamara didn't say anything. She sat at the table, reaching for the toast. "Do you really think you should be wearing those boots? And you know that skirt is supposed to be for best." Her Mother went on. Tamara stifled a guilty grin. Instead of the ugly grey pleated skirt, she had chosen a smart black skirt that sat above the knee. With it, she wore her knee high boots, over a pair of black tights. Coupled with the blouse, Ravenclaw tie, and Hogwarts travel robe, she looked significantly smarter than her uniform usually allowed. Realising that her daughter wasn't going to respond, Allison tutted, as she reached for the teapot. As soon as Tamara had finished her toast, she rose from the table again, making her way to the bathroom.  
"Is that all you're having for breakfast?" Allison called after her.

"I'll get something on the Hogwarts Express." Tamara called back from the bathroom, where she stood in front of the mirror fixing her long chestnut curls in a pony tail. "Is Dad driving us to London?" She asked, calling out again.

"No. He had to go to work early. I'm driving." Allison replied.

"But I won't get to see him before I go." Tamara complained.

"What do you want me to do about it Tamara? I can't just snap my fingers and get what I want." Allison snapped, getting annoyed.

"That's not fair." Tamara shot back, dropping her hands to her sides. Allison buried her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I wish I could make things different."

"I know." Tamara told her, wrapping her arms around her Mother. "I just wish he could be around more. Sometimes I feel like he doesn't care."

"I know it doesn't make up for him, but I care." Allison assured her.

"That means a lot to me." Tamara replied, fighting back the tears that threatened to ruin her eye make-up.

"We should get going, or you really will be late." Allison told her, patting her arm. Tamara nodded, heading back to her room to retrieve her Hogwarts trunk.

****

Later that day, Tamara walked the length of the Hogwarts Express in search of Jez. She found her best friend in an empty compartment, flicking idly through the pages of a muggle fashion magazine. When she noticed Tamara standing in the doorway, she looked up and grinned.

"Hi, Tamara. Why don't you sit down?" Jez told her friend, at which Tamara obliged, straightening her skirt as she did so. "You look nice." Jez commented, casually.

"Wasn't it you who taught me the value of having pride in my appearance?" Tamara told her friend, pointedly.

"True. Why now, though?"

"I think you can guess why."

"I know you too well, girlfriend. So what's the plan?"

"Gain his favour of course. Not an easy task though. And the question is; how?"

"Oh, that's easy. Excel at potions, and make it your favourite subject."

"You call that easy?"

"Sure. Potions is already your favourite subject, Tamara, and you got good enough grades to get into Snape's N.E.W.T level class. I'd say that half your task is already done." Jez told her, lightly. "Just make sure you don't overwork yourself. You really scared the hell out of everyone last year." She went on, serious now.

"I promise you, I'm never going back to that place." Tamara replied, the conviction in her voice outweighing any lingering doubts about what the coming year would bring.

Tamara's first reaction was that it was good to be back at Hogwarts again. But when she stepped into the Great Hall, an odd sensation overcame her. She had collapsed in this hall, and that had been the last she had seen of Hogwarts until now. She knew it was for the best that she face this sooner rather than later, though, if only to overcome any fear that she might still feel. And though it looked vastly different with the House tables and the long platters of food, it still felt strange. Deciding to bury the awkwardness she felt, at least for now, she followed Jez to the Ravenclaw table, idly scanning the High table for Snape as she took her seat. When she found him, the same odd sensation that she had felt in the Apothecary washed over her again. This time, she did nothing to move it or change it or suppress it. She simply let it exist, as her eyes drank him in.

"Might I suggest giving him your undivided attention in class, rather than at dinner? People are starting to stare." Jez whispered, with a nudge. More than a little sheepishly, Tamara turned her attention back to the table, noticing the gothic girl who sat across from them staring shamelessly. Tamara frowned, before allowing Jez to lull her into conversation. Mere minutes later, the doors flew open, and Professor McGonagall marched into the Hall, followed by a group of first year students.

"The Sorting is about to begin." Tamara pointed out, needlessly, as McGonagall took her place beside a stool which sat at the forefront of the Hall, as she held up an ugly, tattered hat, and called forth the first of the students to be sorted.

Tamara cheered with the rest of her House when the new students joined them, but one thing did not escape her notice. The gothic girl was staring at her again, immediately instigating Tamara's annoyance. She shook her head, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling that was beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach.

As soon as the Sorting was over, Professor Dumbledore stood to deliver the start of year notices.

"I would like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts for what I am sure will be another enlightening year. Welcome, also, to our new students. Firstly, I would like to remind you that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden. Secondly, Mr Filch has asked me to tell you that anyone caught in the possession of Dung Bombs will receive immediate detention. For a full list of offending items, please see Mr Filch. Thirdly, I would like to ask you not to throw food into the lake. I daresay that the Giant Squid can feed itself! On a serious note; I am sure you do not need reminding of Lord Voldemort's current status. I would urge you all to remember it, not so that you live in the shadow of fear, but so that you remain strong. Nothing is more important at this moment than standing together; united."

With those words said, Dumbledore took his seat. The student body sat in unanimous stunned silence for a few moments, before the few reams of quiet chatter broke the ice. While everyone else dug into dinner, Tamara contemplated a thought that had crossed her mind.

"Jez, did you notice anything odd about Dumbledore's speech?" Tamara asked her friend, delicately.

"You mean, aside from the pointer about You-Know-Who?"

"Aside from that."

"Then, no."

"Don't you think it's strange that Dumbledore didn't mention anything about a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? We know that Umbridge is gone and that the post is empty, so who's going to be taking the post now?"

"No idea. And I guess we'll just have to wait for class to start before we find out." Jez told her.

Resigned, Tamara sighed, and helped herself to the roast potatoes.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	2. Back to Class Again

**Chapter 2 - Back to Class Again**

That evening, Jez and Tamara sat on a plush blue rug before a roaring fire, in the Ravenclaw Common Room, chatting to each other over a quiet game of gobstones.

"You know, that's really starting to bug me." Jez exclaimed, suddenly.

"It's bugging you that I'm losing?" Tamara asked, confused. Jez grinned, and good-naturedly threw a gobstone at her friend.

"No, it's bugging me that Thalia hasn't stopped staring at you all evening".

"Who?" Tamara asked, the name unfamiliar.

"Thalia Rhiordan." Jez told her, gesturing to the armchair behind Tamara. Tamara glanced over her shoulder and came face to face with the gothic girl who had sat across from her at dinner. At once, Tamara understood.

Thalia was the embodiment of the typical gothic stereotype; long black hair, black lips, heavy black eye make-up: - the works. For as long as Tamara could remember, Thalia had never shown interest in having any association with anyone, so it was strange that she should be paying them such uncharacteristic attention.

"Don't stress about it, Tamara. It's probably nothing." Jez assured her. It was a mark of how close they were that Jez could read Tamara so well, and Tamara knew that she would be infinitely grateful that she had such a good friend. "I think I might get some beauty sleep. You might wanna think about it, too. You don't want bags under your eyes when you have to see Snape." Jez went on.

"You're not going to let me live this one down, are you?" Tamara asked.

"Never." Jez replied, her smile never faltering.

****

Jez could not have been more hyped when she awoke the next morning. Springing out of bed, she bounded over to Tamara's bed, where her best friend lay in a restless slumber. Jez grabbed hold of the duvet and gave it a tug.

"Wake up, sleepy head!" She yelled. "It's the first day of term!"

Tamara groaned, softly, and turned over. Jez grabbed hold of the duvet again, but this time she pulled it onto the floor. Tamara gave an involuntary shiver, and slowly sat up. One glance at the clock told her the absurd hour of the morning.

"Jez, it's practically the crack of dawn! Go back to bed."

"6.30 am is not the crack of dawn. Besides, getting ready takes time."

Tamara groaned again, but forced herself to follow Jez's lead, bracing herself, and leaving the comfort of the nice, cosy bed. Instead of replacing the duvet on the bed nicely and neatly, like most people would, she simply scooped it off the floor and dumped it onto the bed in a heap. She definitely didn't want to face Snape looking like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, as she undoubtedly would if she had stayed in bed for much longer.

When she was finally made-up and ready, Tamara shoved a handful of textbooks into her bag, and slid her feet into her boots, just as Jez shunted her out of the door. Evidently, breakfast was calling their names, and Jez didn't want to miss a single minute.

****

Tamara concentrated on her coffee, trying to forget the fact that Thalia was peering in her direction. As her eyes locked with Thalia's, the girl addressed her. This took Tamara aback. She had not expected it.

"May I read your newspaper?" Thalia asked, reaching out her hand. Tamara passed her the discarded copy of 'The Daily Prophet'. Before Tamara could say a word, though, Thalia had delved into the newspaper's pages, leaving Tamara feeling more than a little confused. Shrugging it off, she reached for the toast.

"Shall we go and get our timetables, then?" Jez suggested, after both girls were sufficiently full.

Tamara nodded, and reached for her bag, only to be stopped by a cool hand on her shoulder. When she saw who it was, she almost felt her heart deflate in her chest. The blond-haired, blue-eyed Juliet Malone. The very Slytherin who had made her life a living hell for five years.

"Don't stand up too quickly. I wouldn't want you to collapse from the effort." Juliet purred, much to the delight of the girls at her side. In an instant, Jez was on her feet, wand pointed at Juliet, ready to defend her best friend's honour.

"Leave it, Jez. It's not worth it." Tamara pleaded.

"I can think of something that's not worth it. I'm surprised they let you back in." Juliet went on, loving Jez's infuriation, and Tamara's embarrassment even more so. Tamara didn't waste another moment. She grabbed Jez's arm and dragged her out of the Hall. She couldn't afford to make a scene on the first day, and given the opportunity Jez would not have hesitated to use her wand.

The minute Tamara stepped outside of the Great Hall, it was to walk headlong into Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw House.

"Sorry, Professor." Tamara apologised, breathlessly.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Of course, Professor. Juliet Malone is being herself, but nothing out of the ordinary." Tamara told him, somewhat cryptically. Flitwick nodded in partial understanding.

"Don't forget your timetables." He told them, handing the parchment to Jez and Tamara, and standing aside to let them pass.

Resolved to be strong from now on, Tamara headed to her first class of the day - Transfiguration.

****

After all the morning hype had subsided, the remainder of the day was considerably uneventful. Transfiguration was merely theory, and the learning methods of History of Magic remained unchanged. After a short break, they'd attended 'the study of ancient runes', and the class scheduled to follow that was the subject of much conversation; their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year.

It was on their way to the aforementioned class, however, that they noticed a particular occupant of the library. Thalia. Ignoring Tamara's objections, Jez led her inside. Much to Jez's interest, Thalia was found searching through a stack of books in a great hurry. It was Tamara, however, who insisted it meant nothing. Insistently, she dragged Jez from the library in favour of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, for which they were both now rather late.

Minutes later, the pair sped through the corridors. Flinging open the classroom door, they skidded into the room. Before a single word could be spoken, Tamara's breath caught in her throat. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing the person who stood beside the blackboard.

"Sorry we're late, Professor Dumbledore." Jez piped up, as Tamara hung her head both in embarrassment and humility.

"What we will be learning in this class is of the utmost importance. We cannot afford to be lax, nor can we afford any loss of time. I must ask you not to arrive late in the future. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." They chimed together.

"You may take your seats." He told them. The girls wasted no time in obeying. Dumbledore waited until they had done so, before proceeding with the lesson.

Tamara wasted no time in fixing her attention on him. It appeared, however, that she was not the only class member interested in learning from the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared.

He taught them the basic tenets of defensive fighting; speed, accuracy, agility, and self-control. Tamara found his methods fascinating. And although she noticed that some of her class mates found his instruction more than a little extraneous, she was pleased to see that at least the legendary Harry Potter appeared to share _her_ sentiments.

"What did you think of the lesson?" She ventured to ask Harry, casually, as the class shuffled out of the room come lunch time. He gave her a brief look that told of his surprise and slight annoyance at her assumption that his opinion on the subject mattered only due to his preceding reputation. It was not her intention to give that impression, of course, and a look of embarrassment and regret subsequently clouded her features. Immediately understanding this, the intensity of Harry's expression softened.

"Charms and hexes are all very well, but I'm just glad that we're finally being taught the importance of vital battle skills. I imagine that he'll teach us about strategies and quick-thinking, too." He spoke coolly, as though he wasn't bothered in the slightest. Tamara had the impression that he had seen so much in his time that he no longer had the energy to bother about being afraid. He seemed to accept his part in the war with a sort of quiet dignity. She nodded in agreement, offering a fleeting smile before he turned and headed out of the room. Feeling slightly puzzled, she allowed Jez to extricate her from the room.

After lunch was a short Herbology lesson, which gave Tamara the opportunity to contemplate the upcoming Potions lesson and the inevitability of meeting Juliet Malone once more. Initially, the subject of Juliet had been cast to the back of her mind, as Defence Against the Dark Arts had taken up most of her attention. Now, there was no denying what was coming. Despite the effects that nervous adrenaline had on her body, she resolved to retain the same dignity in potions that Harry had shown her during their conversation earlier that day.

Heading to the dungeons, at last, felt almost as though Tamara were heading to her death. She was so on edge, in fact, that when Jez placed a comforting hand on her shoulder she almost jumped a mile in the air.

"What's up?" Jez whispered. Ordinarily she might have teased her friend, but seeing the clammy pale texture of Tamara's skin and the obvious tension of her countenance, she understood the importance of seriousness.

"I'm fine." She insisted, even though it was clear that she wasn't. Jez raised a questioning eyebrow. "I promise." Tamara reiterated. When Jez didn't respond, Tamara grabbed her friend's arm and proceeded to explain herself in a low whisper. "Look, it's going to be the most amount of time I've spent with Snape since what happened in the exam. And on top of that there's Juliet. I'm a little nervous, but I'll be fine. Okay?"

"Okay." Jez echoed, not quite convinced but honouring Tamara's word nonetheless.

The pair continued on their journey to the dungeons in silence. The corridor right outside their appointed classroom held a few occupants, the first to capture her attention being Draco Malfoy and Juliet Malone. At the back of the queue stood Harry and his two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Tamara joined the queue behind them, in the hopes that she could keep a low profile.

After what seemed like an age, Snape finally appeared in the doorway. Without uttering a single word, he ushered the class inside. When Tamara reached the door, she quickly shuffled past him while determinedly keeping her gaze fixed on her feet. She took a seat toward the back of the room, but the significant lack of students who had made it through to N.E.W.T. level meant that there was no-one to really block her from the view of either Snape or Juliet. Focusing her attention on Snape's lesson, she cast her fears to the back of her mind.

Once he had finished his start of year speech and introduced the potion that they would be brewing that lesson, she diligently set to work. Things seemed to go well. She even allowed herself the indulgence of a few stolen glances at him, from time to time. It wasn't until the lesson was almost over, however, that things started to go wrong.

She didn't even see it coming. She took hold of a bowl of lacewing flies at precisely the same moment as Ron, who happened to be worked to her left. Each anticipating that the other would keep hold of the bowl, they both let go at exactly the same moment. What seemed to be an unfortunate coincidence instantly spiralled into disaster. The lacewing flies flew up into the air, and when they finally fell back down once more they landed everywhere; on the benches, on the floor, in Ron's hair, and worse - in Tamara's potion. Of course, the potion called for no more than one lacewing fly to be added. Due to the unfortunate incident, no less than four of the flies landed in Tamara's potion, which began to hiss and fizz furiously. Unable to do anything but watch in shock and horror, the potion exploded unceremoniously.

Juliet, Draco, and another couple of Slytherin's who had made it into the class immediately began to fill the room with raucous laughter. Meanwhile, Snape was to be seen standing over what was left of Tamara's cauldron. Having cleared up the mess left by the potion and the lacewing flies with a mere wave of his wand, he turned his attention to Tamara. Nothing he could have said would have punished her more than the cold disappointment in his eyes. As it was, his silence was more than she could bear. She almost would have preferred it if he had begun shouting at her. She would not be afforded that luxury, however.

"No marks for today, Miss Edgecombe." Were his only words to her. Without waiting for a response he turned to Ron, deducting 50 points from Gryffindor before one could even utter the word 'unfair'.

It was hard to believe. The lesson had gone so well. She had even enjoyed it, somewhat. How could things have gone so wrong? Moreover, was she doomed to failure? Embarrassment and grief at the unfortunate end to the lesson felt as though it were burning her from the inside out.

Jez saw an entirely different picture. She watched as Tamara robotically cleared away the remainder of her potion ingredients, an impenetrable glassy emptiness covering her eyes. Jez knew her friend well enough to know that underneath the stone cold exterior, she was probably an emotional ticking time bomb ready to explode at the slightest nudge. All of a sudden, a startling thought occurred to her. Snape seemed to display the same cold exterior most of the time. If she was right in her understanding of Tamara's emotional state, then wasn't it possible that Snape could be understood in a similar manner? It was odd to think of him in this way. Nonetheless she made a mental note to tell Tamara her theory as soon as her friend had calmed down. When Snape dismissed the class, mere moments later, Jez threw a quick glance at him as she followed Tamara out of the room. As always his expression was unreadable, and it perplexed Jez more than she cared to admit.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	3. Clearing the Confusion

**Chapter 3 - Clearing the Confusion**

Free, at last, of the confines of the classroom, Tamara breathed a sigh of relief. The confusion that annihilated her thoughts, however, seemed to lodge itself firmly within her. Her snappish reply to Hermione Granger's words of sympathy told her that there was no way the confusion would let up any time soon. At the very least a long walk, alone, through the bowels of the castle would mean that she could shed her tears without being scrutinised by prying eyes.

Addressing Jez and excusing herself, she turned and headed toward the first deserted corridor in sight. For the next twenty minutes or so, Tamara explored the castle with unseeing eyes. All she had the energy to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, as she sifted through the myriad of thoughts running through her mind. Finally, the corridor she was walking came to an end. Ahead of her was a large wooden door with an iron handle. Almost mechanically, she reached for the handle and gave it a yank. Reluctantly, the door creaked open, and Tamara found herself entering a room. With nowhere else to go, she came to a halt, and with no movement to further occupy her thoughts she became all too aware of the exhaustion that now plagued her mind, heart, and body. Her schoolbag slipped unceremoniously from her grasp, and she dropped to her knees. Aware of the way she must have looked, the last thoughts that crossed her mind as she gave way to unrelenting fatigue were _'I have got to pull myself together'_, even though she was almost glad for the sleep that washed over her and the relaxation and rejuvenation it brought. She welcomed it.

Hours later, it seemed, Tamara woke to find the room shrouded entirely in darkness, and wondered, dimly, how late it was. Moments later, footsteps could be heard in the corridor outside the room. Instinctively she shrank back into the shadows, with absolutely no desire to be found. The footsteps became increasingly louder, and as they drew nearer voices could be distinguished. The first voice belonged to Professor Dumbledore. The second voice spoke so softly that it was impossible to distinguish exactly who it was. For the time being it didn't matter. Tamara simply wanted to be alone. Silently, she willed Dumbledore to ignore the open door and turn around to leave. Inwardly, she knew better. Dumbledore found her almost immediately, as though he had been expecting her. Briefly, she cast a glance over his shoulder to see who his companion was. Whoever it was, they remained unseen in the corridor.

Dumbledore knelt down before her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. His cool blue eyes seemed to twinkle in the darkness, piercing the walls which protected the deepest confines of her heart. Unwilling to admit the real reason why she was there, she bowed her head.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I must have fallen asleep" she murmured. Dumbledore didn't say a word. Cautiously, she returned her gaze to search the lines of his wizened old face. Unable to help herself, words and truths (as well as tears) began spilling from her. What she must have sounded like didn't occur to her. All that mattered was that the burdens of her heart be lifted, and in that moment he seemed almost like the kind-hearted grandfather to whom one could confide almost anything without fear of being judged. Everything, from the awkward feelings at facing the school for the first time since her collapse, to Thalia's incessant attention, Juliet's deploring treatment of her, her intense embarrassment at the debacle which had taken place in Potions class that day, and even the unbearable thought that she had disappointed Snape. He looked almost surprised, and even a little guilty, but the strange expression left his face almost as quickly as it had appeared. He left her little time to wonder at this, however, as he tactfully changed the subject.

"That you experience such feelings is evidence only that you are human. What you do with it, though, is up to you and your choice alone has the power to either debilitate you completely or make you stronger and wiser. The way I see it, you can choose to either seclude yourself here all night with only your demons and your grief for company or; you can come back down to the castle, have some dinner, and work out a plan of action. What do you say?"

Tamara nodded, her tear-stained cheeks glinting as the moonlight cast across the room from the window caught her face. With everything said and agreed upon, she reached out her hand to accept the one that he offered her, allowing him to help her to her feet.

Emerging from the room allowed Tamara to finally recognise the identity of Dumbledore's companion. Professor Snape stepped out of the darkness to face her, and the expression adorning his features told her clearly that he had heard every word of her confession to Professor Dumbledore. Embarrassing though the unfortunate situation appeared, Tamara knew that in the long run it was probably for the best that she be honest about this sort of thing. Denying truths would do nothing toward helping her to build a trusting relationship with such a complex man. So rather than the usual practice of casting her gaze at the floor and bowing her head meekly she stood her ground with dignity and quietly gave him a respectful nod. Though he didn't say anything, and his expression didn't change, he returned her nod and in his doing so it seemed to Tamara that he understood her. The moment couldn't last, however, as Dumbledore ushered them to begin the return back to the castle's more populated areas.

The walk back was filled with an air of silence, leaving Tamara to chance a glance or two at her companions. Snape looked oddly tense. He walked gingerly with his arms folded tightly to his chest, looking as though he was taking extra care as he walked beside her. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked as calm as ever and once or twice she even could have sworn that she saw a twinkle in his eye and the corners of his mouth turning upwards in a smile as he glanced at her. And though she had to fight back laughter at the mischievous old man's ease and wisdom, she couldn't help but warmly return his smile.

A few moments later, Tamara recognised the corridor which led back to the Ravenclaw tower and immediately felt overcome by a need to snuggle up in the arm chair by the fireplace and consider everything that had happened in the relative security and privacy that the tower offered. So, offering Dumbledore her thanks and wishing her companions goodnight, she took her leave and headed toward Ravenclaw tower.

The common room contained only one occupant when she arrived; a hard-working fourth year girl with a sweet disposition named Adelaide Roebeck. Tamara cast the girl a polite but altogether wan smile before claiming one of the two armchairs in front of the fire. A few moments later, Adelaide followed her example and took the second chair.

"Your friend Jez was worried about you. We all were." Adelaide told her, quietly. Tamara looked at her with surprise, but slowly the last vestiges of her embarrassment at the situation were beginning to fade away.

A slight popping sound broke the silence before she could reply. In front of the two girls had appeared a stocky little creature that Tamara guessed was a house-elf. The elf, blushing enormously, presented her with a large plate of sandwiches. Dumbledore, it seemed, had sent the elf knowing that Tamara would likely not choose to attend the Great Hall for dinner that evening. Once again, she couldn't help but smile at the ingenuity of his thoughtful kindness. The elf gave a low bow and disappeared with another 'pop' as soon as it was free of the plate of it was carrying, which Tamara immediately offered to share with Adelaide.

Tamara didn't get an opportunity to talk to Jez properly until well into the evening when they were alone in the dormitory they shared as they got ready to retire to bed. When Jez had finished admonishing her for causing so much worry, Tamara told her everything that had taken place from Dumbledore's words and actions, to the moment which had passed between her and Snape. Jez listened to the story wide-eyed and without comment, suddenly remembering the theory that had occurred to her back in potions class. When she told Tamara of her belief that Snape's stone-cold exterior was really a cover for the fact that he was really an emotional time bomb, Tamara laughed and offered a "yeah, maybe", but secretly the information turned over and over in her mind, reminding her sharply of the ginger tension with which Snape had walked on the journey back through the castle.

****

The next morning, in spite of everything that had happened, Tamara felt strangely okay. Her mind was no longer preoccupied with the likes of Juliet. In fact, the blond Slytherin bully was as far from her mind as it was possible to be, and even if they did end up running into each other, reacting with cool indifference would surely be a good plan.

In the end, though, this plan wasn't really necessary. Apart from one incident at breakfast that morning which ended up with Juliet appearing more childish than anything else, the other girl gave her no real cause for concern as the weeks went on. It was odd, really, and Juliet might even have been biding her time, but Tamara didn't dwell on such thoughts, preferring to get on with her life without such negativity plaguing her mind.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	4. All Hallow's Eve

**Chapter 4 - All Hallow's Eve**

As time wound on, the students of Hogwarts began to grow restless. The annual Halloween celebrations were coming up, and they could hardly wait for the much sought-after reprieve that the celebration would offer. Dumbledore's plans this year, in particular, had engendered much excitement among the students. After a particularly distressing previous year, he saw every social event as an opportunity for staff and students alike to forge stronger bonds with each other, and simply to ease the tension and enjoy themselves, and he was more than happy to seize all such opportunities.

In spite of the excitement of the promised "evening to remember", and the subsequent non-stop chatter it produced, much to the irritation of the teachers (particularly Professor McGonagall, who had gone so far as to threaten the deduction of house points from any student caught talking about it in class), October seemed to crawl by at a most stately pace.

Even though Jez was among the many students whose excitement bubbled at the prospects of the upcoming Halloween celebrations, Tamara was not and she spent many of their conversations about the subject with her mind dwelling on other things. A conversation between the two girls in the common room one evening proved to be one such occasion. As Jez prattled on about who was planning on wearing what on the night of the upcoming celebrations, Tamara's thoughts dwelled on the events that had taken place on the first day of term and the impromptu discovery of her by Dumbledore and Snape as she hid in the bowels of the castle. Although it had been many weeks now since this had happened, she still could not help but try to decipher and analyse the words, body language, and actions of both men that night. She also wrestled with her ever-increasing feelings for the aforementioned Snape and a desperate need to earn his ever-elusive trust and respect. What was frustrating about this was that firstly it was highly inappropriate for her to have such sentiments, and secondly that no-one else would be likely to understand the possibility that her emotions were more than just a teacher-crush.

Such thoughts could have wrestled with her mind all night if she let them, but the sudden lack of conversation from Jez's side broke the hypnotic-like rhythm her thoughts had taken on. Sitting in silence felt rather odd, but the incessant preoccupation with Halloween sparked a ludicrous image in her mind that she couldn't help but share with Jez.

"Speaking of Halloween," Tamara broke the silence, "what costumes do you think people would wear trick-or-treating?"

Jez shot her an odd look, surprised at the random comment. Tamara chuckled.

"I'm sorry. I just had this wild image of Dumbledore wrapped from head to foot in toilet paper trying to pass himself off as an Egyptian mummy!" Tamara explained. Jez burst out laughing.

This image opened up a whole new avenue of conversation which took them animatedly through the next twenty minutes, concluding with the idea that if Snape went trick-or-treating he could simply go as himself, seeing as most people found him scary enough anyway. Glad for a fun conversation for once, Tamara felt a burden lifted from her shoulders that hadn't really shifted since she had come back to Hogwarts more than a month and a half ago.

****

The following morning, Adelaide met Tamara and Jez in the common room before breakfast, as usual. Ever since that odd night when Tamara and Adelaide had first met, the blonde fourth year had become a member of the group seemingly by mutual unspoken agreement.

Breakfast that morning was a light-hearted affair, filled with off-hand chatter; like Adelaide's studying prowess, Neville Longbottom's unfortunate ability to create large hairy eight-legged teapots (and Ron Weasley's equally unfortunate reaction), the latest detention Snape had given Harry Potter, and the fact that Jez's tea had gone cold.

Breakfast passed in this fashion for quite some time, and Jez and Tamara stayed well after Adelaide had left to attend a Transfiguration theory test. Only when the house tables were magically cleared of the remaining breakfast things were the two girls finally prompted to head to charms class. Passing through the corridors, their conversation dwindled on idly, but Tamara's attention was beginning to wander. It wasn't long before instant focus was afforded her, however, as Professor Snape stepped into the corridor (inevitably to pass by them as he headed toward the dungeons). For a split second, Tamara's feet stopped working and try as she might, she could not will herself to move as he became closer and closer. The second was, thankfully, quick to pass and as she stepped to one side to allow him room to pass she gave him a humble smile and a respectful nod.

"Good morning, sir." She offered her soft but polite greeting. His sudden change of expression and slightly raised eyebrow told her that he was more than a little surprised, not to mention slightly sceptical, at being addressed in such a polite manner by a student, but he didn't say anything. Curtly, he stepped around her and continued on his way. Jez, who had been watching the whole exchange, noticed Tamara's marginally perplexed and confused expression and was quick to offer her input.

"I think that went well." Jez supplied, as soon as they were out of earshot.

"How do you figure that? He didn't say anything." Tamara replied, sarcastically.

"Are you kidding? He may not have said anything, but at least he didn't say anything nasty. He must have been practically pleased to see you!" Jez explained. At this, the two girls broke into simultaneous peals of laughter which carried them the rest of the way to charms class.

****

In charms class that day, Professor Flitwick had the students practice banishing charms on cushions. Jez and Tamara had turned this simple exercise into a game, much like the muggle version of dodge. For Tamara, the carefree fun of the game gave her a feeling of utter calm and innocence like she hadn't felt since her younger days at Hogwarts.

Exhausted but delighted, the two friends were still giggling incessantly when they arrived at their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Dumbledore smiled at them from behind the teacher's desk as they took their seats, more than delighted that Tamara appeared to be happier lately.

When everyone had arrived, Dumbledore rose from behind the desk and stood before the class, placidly but commandingly. This alone was enough to quieten the noisy chatter of the students who were yet to settle in for the duration of the lesson. Dumbledore was quite a gifted teacher in this way. He gave off such an impression of wisdom and strength that respect was afforded him without question. When silence hung over the room, Dumbledore raised his hands, saying only that he wanted to show them something.

At this point, the students were hanging on to his every word. Indeed, his every move. Tamara's jaw dropped at what happened next. It had obviously been a unique form of wandless magic that produced the charm, but it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It seemed to be a feeling, a song, a shape, and a substance, all rolled into one. Tamara knew in that instance that it had to have been one of the most beautiful things she had ever experienced.

Lost in her awe, Tamara barely registered when Dumbledore asked the class what the charm reminded them of. "Love" was the simple word that came out of her mouth, born on little more than a whisper.

"You're right." Dumbledore replied. "This magic does, indeed, come from love. Whether it is the love of a parent for their child, the love between a man and a woman, or even the love of our friends, it all amounts to the same thing; the same power. It is a power that resides in every fibre of our bodies. It is the ultimate strength, the ultimate faith, the ultimate loyalty. Courage in its rawest form. It is a power that comes from the purest good." Dumbledore paused at this point, as though allowing the students to take all this information in. All at once Tamara understood exactly why Dumbledore was including this information in his lesson - because it was vital magic in the fight against Voldemort, and the one thing she knew would allow them to triumph.

When it came time to head to their next class, Tamara started packing her things away in a sort of half daze, not really properly processing the knowledge that it was Potions class which beckoned them. It was only when they were all lined up outside Snape's dungeon that she really realised she was there. Snape arrived on cue, and as usual held the door open as the students filed in one-by-one. As Tamara's turn came to pass by him and into the room, she paused taking a split second to search the expression etched into his face. Disappointingly, she saw nothing, and proceeded to walk into the classroom feeling heavier of heart than she had expected to be.

When Snape began the lesson, Tamara was unable to help but fix her eyes on him and let her mind wander. It wasn't long before she was completely lost in her imagination. In her mind, she could see Snape stand up at his desk, walk across the room to where she sat, take her by the hand, sweep her into his arms and…

"Miss Edgecombe, please repeat what I just said." Came a cold voice, startling her back to reality where a furious Snape had turned his full attention to her.

_Crap! That'll teach you to daydream in class_, she thought. Sure enough, she received detention, for which she would be obliged to return to the dungeons that evening.

****

That evening Tamara made her way back down to the dungeons, her heart pounding fiercely and her hands shaking unbearably. When at last the large wooden door of the potions lab loomed before her, she raised her hand and knocked tentatively.

"Enter." Came Snape's disinterested voice from within the room. Tamara took hold of the wrought iron handle and pushed the heavy door open. Snape sat at the desk at the front of the room, grading homework. The quill in his hand paused, but he didn't look up. She stood by the doorway, awaiting instruction. Finally, he spoke.

"You are to write lines. _I must pay attention in class._ You will do so until I say otherwise. You may begin."

Without any further words being exchanged, Tamara took a seat at the front of the classroom, took out a piece of parchment and began to write her assigned lines.

Snape watched, unnoticed, as she sat down and began the work he had set her. His gaze remained on her for several minutes, as he wondered vaguely whether she understood the kind of potential she had, or even whether she understood the magnanimity of her true heritage. At that thought, a memory began to resurface of a conversation from a year long since passed. It was the eve of Tamara's first year at Hogwarts and he sat at the high table at Dumbledore's right hand as the first years entered the Great Hall for the sorting. Dumbledore had whispered to him. _"Keep an eye out for her, won't you Severus. Her true heritage gives her a much greater potential, and a much greater role in this war, than is fathomable." _He had been the only person in the Order Dumbledore had spoken to regarding the truth about Tamara, and it had remained their secret ever since. But in spite of this, her potential wasn't the only thing Snape saw in her. There was something else in her spirit and personality that was greater than anything else. At times, it almost felt like it pierced the protective wall he kept around himself and saw straight into his soul. It was an unnerving experience for someone such as himself who had never let anyone get past his protective wall, and this was one of the reasons why he had continually held back from her over the years. At that moment she looked up from her work, her eyes connecting with his. Beyond the surprise that was written in her gaze at finding him watching her, there was something else… something he could not quite put his finger on. Inside, his stomach twinged uncomfortably. There it was again; the mysterious piercing quality in her that he was simply too apprehensive to confront.

****

The next few weeks passed in a blur, finding Tamara standing in her dormitory on Halloween, dressed and ready for the evening ahead. Tamara had dressed with the aim of looking like an attractive yet mature young adult, should events find her crossing paths with Snape at any point that evening. Even so, she was nervous as she headed down to the Great Hall with Jez and Adelaide. Walking through the doors, the first person that Tamara noticed was, of course, Snape. She watched with a pang of jealousy as Juliet sauntered past him and flashing him a flirtatious glance. Next to Juliet's stunningly good looks, Tamara felt utterly mediocre. There was no way she could compare to the blonde Slytherin girl. What Tamara didn't see, however, as she hurried to the Ravenclaw table, was the bored expression on Snape's face as he turned away from Juliet, and the split second sparkle in his eye as his gaze found Tamara.

When the feast started, Tamara found that she wasn't interested in the food, and idly glanced up at the staff table, where Snape appeared to be as disinterested as she was. She watched with a flicker of amusement as he pushed his food around with his fork, before giving up entirely, and putting his fork down. At that precise moment, he looked in her direction and Tamara turned back to her own plate, cursing herself, silently.

When the feast finished, the tables disappeared, the lighting dimmed, and ghostly music came out of nowhere. Some of the students got up and danced, and others wandered outside, where the gardens had been decorated with Jack-o-Lanterns, bats, and cobwebs. In the middle of the canopy, a bonfire blazed. Paths adorned by gold and silver fairy-lights were set up so that people could walk idly if they didn't want to join in the festivities, which was exactly what Tamara and her friends were doing. As they headed toward the bonfire, Tamara noticed that Snape was sitting on a stone bench on the far side of it. As they went to pass through the canopy, Tamara excused herself, leaving Jez and Adelaide to walk on alone. Tamara headed over to the bench and sat down beside Snape. He looked up at her as she did so, appearing slightly confused.

"Did you want something, Miss Edgecombe?" He asked, sounding irritated. She shook her head, staring into the dancing flames. She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye, and noticed that he was very tense. She leaned back, letting her hand brush over his, absently. As she did so, she felt a sudden rush of emotion that seemed to come from him. She felt anger, misery, despair and sorrow like she'd never felt before. She saw snippets of memories which all contained darkness, death, and torture. She felt a desperate desire just to be able to let it all go, and frustration at not being able to. As Tamara drew her hand back, she looked up at him in shock, wanting to hold him tight and kiss away all of his pain.

"Sir…" She began, but he cut her off.

"Mind your own business, Miss Edgecombe. Mine doesn't concern you." He snarled. Without any further words, he got up and swept away.

That night, Tamara cried for him. She cried for hours, but when she finally fell asleep, it was only to fall into a dream world that was filled with darkness, death and torture.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	5. Heritage

**Chapter 5 - Heritage**

For the next few days, Tamara couldn't help but feel awkward about what had happened. Snape had been through more than anyone knew, and accidentally seeing his most painful and private memories made her feel almost like she had been caught running through the corridors naked. But no matter what she did his pain stayed with her. He harboured so much, bearing his burdens in silent resignation, never asking for help and never asking for a shoulder to lean on even though she now knew he needed it. Seeing those things made Tamara realise how deeply she cared for the Potions Master, and she wanted desperately to show him that, to show him that he didn't need to carry the weight of his demons alone. Apparently, though, he felt the same awkwardness that she did, though she didn't understand that at the time. To her eyes, Snape seemed to taking the utmost care to avoid her altogether.

This stung Tamara, motivating her to embrace even the smallest of opportunities to be near him. At the end of the present Potions class (the last class of the day), for instance, she found herself taking her time clearing everything away, and when she had finished carefully cleaning her own tools she set about scrubbing the benches without magic, usually one of the tasks left for those students who were serving detention with Professor Snape. But while Tamara lost herself in the work, and even found the physical labour a little soothing, her heart couldn't help but jitter and jump in her chest at the thought that she was alone in the room with Snape, as his eyes burned into her back.

Suddenly words filled the room, born on a silky voice, but that same beautiful melody was also fraught with tension. "Miss Edgecombe, leave it and go." Snape ordered her, unceremoniously. Surprised to hear him speak to her, his first words to her in days, she turned to face him. "Please, Sir..." She began, but he cut her off.

"Now!" He barked, shortly and sternly. She had never before heard him use such a tone. Usually his voice was cold, menacing, or laced with unemotional disappointment. But this... this was anger. Emotion... and anger. It was a tone that Tamara didn't dare question, and though his manner hurt her unfathomably, and although it pained her to do so, she dropped the scrubbing brush she was holding, grabbed her things and fled from the room.

No longer able to maintain her resolve, and her dignity giving up the battle with her tears, she flung herself into the nearest girl's bathroom, let her bag and potions tools slip to the floor, and threw herself toward the neat row of basins. Propping herself up using the cool white ceramic, she bowed her head, breathing heavily, as her tears slid from her eyes to be caught by the obliging sink.

Suddenly, her tears of grief turned into tears of rage. For years she had tried to meet the demands of others. How much more did she have to give? When would her efforts be enough? She lifted her head to meet her reflection's gaze. As she looked on, she realised that she wasn't angry at anyone else. She was angry at herself, and she hated the image that stared back at her. She hated it for never being good enough. Before she knew what was happening, her fist had clenched, her arm retracted, and all of her pent up anger released as her fist flew at the mirror. Shards of glass tumbled down around her hand, blood trickling over her fingers as ugly cracks marred her reflection.

Tamara stumbled backwards, unbelievingly, and fell against one of the toilet doors. She did not register what had happened until she caught sight of the blood on her hand. Her stomach retched, and feeling like an utter fool she stumbled forward onto her knees.

"What have I done?" She whispered to herself.

"Poor child," a voice suddenly muttered. Looking up in surprise, she found her own broken reflection addressing her. "You carry so many cares for one so young."

"I don't know what to do." Tamara whimpered, embarrassed. It was a strange feeling – talking to herself.

"Oh, but you do." Her reflection told her. "Look within yourself. Learn to trust your talents."

Tamara pondered her reflection's words, which seemed laden with implication. After a moment, she understood and she knew exactly what to do to get Snape to listen to her. She would write a letter. After all, she had always been fairly comfortable with academic pursuits, the written word (though the higher order work of recent years had been challenging).

Her reflection smiled at her and winked before returning to its previous silence. Tamara braved a wan smile, herself, and wrapping her bleeding hand in her robes she gathered her things and turned to leave, casting a quick "reparo" spell to restore the mirror before she shut the bathroom door behind her.

****

A few minutes later, Tamara entered the library to find Jez sitting at one of the tables. School work was strewn across the table surface, but much of it had been left neglected as Jez lost herself in her thoughts. Jez was so preoccupied, in fact, that she didn't notice Tamara approach. She simply slid quietly into one of the chairs and took out a fresh piece of parchment. Holding her quill poised over the parchment, she wondered how to begin. Sighing, she glanced up at her friend who sported a look of pained concentration.

"Are you okay Jez?" She asked, gently. Startled, Jez jumped.

"I didn't see you there." She said, catching her breath. "I'm okay; I just can't help but worry about Thalia. She really creeps me out, you know. There's something about her that bothers me and I can't quite put my finger on it."

"I thought that was ancient history." Tamara said, tentatively.

"Yeah, I know, but you know what I'm like when something bothers me." Jez replied. "What happened to your hand?" She asked, suddenly noticing Tamara's fresh scars.

"It's nothing. Just an accident. I'll go see Madame Pomfrey later." She assured Jez, retracting her hand from view. With that, both girls fell silent and Tamara turned her attention back to the task of writing her letter, realising that she had no idea what to write.

"Professor Snape," she wrote. Too formal. This was a personal letter after all.

"Dear Sir." Perfect. But what to say next? What had seemed such a good idea before was proving to much more difficult than she had expected. _Speak from the heart_, a voice in her mind told her, sounding eerily like the voice that had spoken to her from the mirror back in the bathroom. Tamara smiled to herself, realising that she knew exactly what to write. Taking up her quill, she began.

"_Dear Sir, _

_Please know that I don't wish to intrude on your privacy; I respect teacher-student conventions. I understand that you've been through more painful times in your life than anyone ever should. I don't mean to make you confront again those memories that are hard enough to deal with. _

_It is important to me to tell you know that I don't judge you for what it is written in your past. I think that you are a gifted teacher, and a strong and charismatic person. _

_Most importantly of all, I want you to know that you do not have to be alone. There are people who care. _

_Yours Truly,_

_Tamara Edgecombe"_

Satisfied, Tamara put the quill down and smiled. For the first time that she could remember, she felt like the weight that she had been carrying had truly been shifted off her shoulders.

****

It wasn't until the following day that Tamara was given the opportunity to give Snape her letter. It was a crisp Thursday morning, and Tamara found herself enduring two hours of the unceasing drone of Professor Binns' voice in History of Magic. Every minute felt like an eternity.

Writing the letter was one thing, but the thought of actually giving it to Snape was quite another. She would not allow herself the luxury of backing out now, but even so the prospect of actually going through with it made her nervous. The wait before the time came, however, was absolutely torturous.

Finally, the time for Potions class came. As she walked through the corridors, feeling trepidation anyway at the thought of seeing Snape after what had happened yesterday, Tamara suddenly panicked when she realised that she had no idea how safely 'deliver' her letter.

Throughout the class, the problem plagued her, making it hard to concentrate. When she knocked a bottle of beetle juice over Hermione and narrowly missed a subsequent cauldron explosion, she realised that she needed a plan of action. Disciplining herself enough to survive the rest of the lesson, she put her itinerant mind to work and decided what to do.

It seemed like an age had passed when the end of the lesson finally came in sight. She took her time clearing away her things so that when she turned to leave she was at the very end of the line of students heading for the door, leaving no-one to see the letter sporting Snape's name that she left behind on her desk. While no-one was listening, and while Snape was preoccupied with marking homework, she cast a quick charm to make the envelope glow, brightly, and quickly left the dungeon.

****

Jez was lost in thought when Tamara caught up with her on the way to the Great Hall for lunch. She draped her arm, casually, around her friend.

"What's up?" She asked. Jez cast her an apologetic and embarrassed look.

"I don't mean to bring it up again, and I know its getting old, but Thalia was doing it all through Potions. She wouldn't stop staring, Tamara. That girl has got a serious problem."

"This is getting ridiculous." Tamara said with a sigh. "Where is she now? In the library?"

"I think so, but Tamara don't do anything rash..."

"We're going to sort this out once and for all. I don't have time for games." Tamara told Jez, an unnatural bite to her usual fluid tone. Without waiting for Jez's approval, or even her response, Tamara turned and marched towards the library.

The library was dismally empty except for Madame Pomfrey, Thalia who sat in the far corner poring over text books, and... Snape? Jez, who had just caught up, grabbed Tamara's hand, but in her surprise Tamara pulled her hand away sharply. Snape, who was just about to leave, caught her gaze, holding something in his hand. Was it her letter? For a moment, he looked as though he might say something, but at the last minute decided against it, seeing as she was not alone. What struck Tamara, though, was that Snape did not look angry. More than anything, he looked tired. Tired of being haunted by his past, tired of loneliness; tired of everything. She flashed him a brief but reassuring smile before he finally swept past them and left the library to return to the privacy of his office.

Willing her feet to move, Tamara marched determinedly towards Thalia's table. Thalia reeled back in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

"Do you have a problem with me?!" Tamara blurted out, foregoing all decorum. Madame Pince looked up to see what the noise was all about, and Tamara dropped her voice to the level of an angry whisper. "You've been staring at me for weeks. Why?"

Thalia's eyes widened in alarm, and what little colour was left in her cheeks drained away.

"Tamara, it's not what you think. Please sit down." Thalia told her.

Tamara rubbed her temple, annoyed. She was tempted to refuse Thalia's request, but thought the better of it. The quicker this conversation got under way, the quicker it could finish, the quicker they could all get on with their lives. Taking a seat, she looked Thalia directly in the eye. Taken aback by the intensity of Tamara's stare, Thalia twitched her hands nervously.

"This is going to sound a little crazy," she began, "but I assure you that every word is the truth. I have never lied about anything in my life. I... I have a gift. I see things. Visions, and voices..." Tamara raised an eyebrow. Thalia knew how weird this all sounded. It had been unbelievable to her too in the beginning. "It's hard to explain." Thalia went on. "Sometimes I get snippets of information, I just know things, and my instincts have never been wrong before."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're psychic?" Tamara asked, sceptically.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you." Thalia echoed.

A strange look crossed Tamara's face as she tried to process this new information.

"Will you let me show you?" Thalia asked, knowing that it would take more than just her word for Tamara to believe her. Tamara hesitated, but nodded her agreement. Thalia took hold of Tamara's hand, opening a direct channel between her own energy and Tamara's.

All the while, Jez looked on in silence. What took place between Tamara and Thalia in that moment of psychic connection, Jez never found out. All she saw was a crackle of energy and both girls begin to shake mildly as it passed between them. A look of amazement crossed Tamara's face, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Tamara pulled her hand away, rubbing her eyes.

"Enough." She whispered. "I believe you." Taking a deep breath, she tried to compose herself. "I don't understand though; what do your psychic abilities mean for me?"

"I've been contacted by spirit lady who seems to be connected to you. Before term started, I had a vision. The lady was speaking to me, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. She kept showing me a battle between her and You-Know-Who, and she showed me an image of you afterward. I couldn't make sense of it, and I thought that being near you might trigger more information, but it never does. She kept showing me the same thing. Last night, though, she showed me some objects. Here I drew them." Thalia took a notebook out of her bag and passed it to Tamara.

Turning to the first page, Tamara found a drawing of a woman who looked startlingly like herself.

"Is that her?" Jez asked, finally speaking up. Seeing the look on Tamara's face when she saw what Thalia saw, Jez knew in her heart that Thalia was telling the truth about her psychic abilities and in the spirit of friendship she knew she would support Tamara without question. Thalia nodded in response to Jez's question, knowing in her gut that Jez understood too.

Tamara turned the page, examining the drawings one by one. On one page there was a picture of a beautiful pendant; a dragon and a phoenix joined to create a circle which house a five-pointed star. On another page was an ornate dagger. The blade was etched with celtic inscriptions, and the hilt was embossed with similar markings. The next picture depicted a wooden chest that looked like it was embossed with gold leaf. The last drawing was of an old canvas book, with pages that were falling out. The cover of the book sported the same symbol as the pendant, and below it was written the same inscription that was on the blade of the dagger. Tamara closed the notebook and gave it back to Thalia.

"These belonged to her?" Tamara asked.

"I believe so." Thalia replied. "I wish I could understand what it all means though. It's so frustrating."

Thalia was right about that. None of it made sense. But... there was someone who might know. Dumbledore. She recalled the first day of term, when she had hidden herself in the bowels of the castle only to be discovered by the Headmaster. She had mentioned Thalia during their conversation, and though she hadn't given it much thought at the time, she realised that Dumbledore had changed the topic much too quickly. He knew. He would help them understand.

"I think we should ask Professor Dumbledore." She told the two girls, who looked back at her in surprise. Tamara quickly related her conversation with Dumbledore. Thalia and Jez agreed with Tamara's suggested plan, and the three girls rushed out of the library without a moment's hesitation.

Tamara, followed by the others, dashed through the corridors toward the Headmaster's Office. Tamara flung herself around a corner, and came face to face with none other than Professor Snape. Tamara crashed into him in surprise, grabbing hold of his sleeve to steady herself. He threw his arm about her waist, instinctively, to support her. He was warm, and she felt strangely safe in his grasp. For a split second, her breath still in her throat as she looked up at him, and revelled in his touch.

"Miss Edgecombe, please watch where you are going. What do you think you're doing?" He growled.

"I have to see Professor Dumbledore." She told him, in a throaty voice. Maintaining her composure was always a difficult task in his presence.

"What can possibly be so urgent that you need to disturb the Headmaster at this exact second?" He asked her, a hint of sarcasm in his otherwise cold tone.

She looked him directly in the eyes, taking on a determined air. Suddenly, something in her realised that this situation was more serious than anyone of them could fathom. It was imperative that she talk to Dumbledore.

"Please Sir, it's very important. I wouldn't bother him otherwise." She pleaded with him.

"I wouldn't want to keep you, then." He told her in an angry whisper, but inwardly he knew she was right. With that, he stood back from her and swept around the corner out of sight.

At any other moment, Tamara would have simply stood for a moment, trying to decipher what had just happened, but something else spurred her on, something which knew how important it was to meet with Dumbledore. With that, she resumed her haste, and Jez and Thalia followed.

A short time later, the girls found themselves at the foot of the gargoyle statue which guarded the winding staircase to Dumbledore's office.

"How do you activate it?" Jez asked. But as soon as the question had passed aside, the gargoyle stepped to one side, revealing a pathway to the staircase. Thalia raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

"I think he's expecting us." She said. But nothing further was said. Without further ado, they made their way up the stairs, neither of them quite knowing what would come of the meeting.

The door was open when they reached the top, and before Tamara could announce herself Dumbledore was calling out.

"Come in." He told them. The girls obeyed. Finally coming face to face with Dumbledore, Tamara realised that the old man knew why she was there. In fact, he had probably been expecting this confrontation ever since that first day of term.

"You know why I'm here." She said, bravely, though inside she felt as though she were about to turn to jelly. This was not going to be an easy conversation.

"I do." He agreed, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his temple. "Please take a seat, all of you." Tamara, Jez and Thalia took their places in the three chairs that Dumbledore had presently conjured for them. Dumbledore continued.

"Perhaps I should have told you the truth years ago, but I wanted to give you as much of a carefree childhood as I possibly could. Now, it seems, the time has come."

Perplexed, Tamara watched as Dumbledore replaced his spectacles, stood up and waved his wand at one of the many portraits that adorned the walls of his office. The portrait swung open, revealing a secret compartment. Dumbledore flicked his wand again and the compartment opened. From it, he took a large red canvas book that looked as though it were falling apart. He placed the book on his desk and tapped it once with his wand. The book opened and the pages flipped to reveal a hidden piece of parchment. Dumbledore took the piece of parchment out of the book and handed it to Tamara. When Tamara read what was written there, she froze in shock.

"_Official Certificate of Adoption. Child's Name: Tamara Landon. Birth Mother: Rosalyn Landon. Adoptive Parents: Alison and John Edgecombe," _followed by a list of signatures.

Try as she might, Tamara couldn't fathom this new information. Was she really adopted? Was her name really Tamara Landon? Alison, the woman she had always believed to be her Mother, was apparently just an impostor, a woman of no real relation to her, who had simply taken her in. And what had happened to Rosalyn? Why had she abandoned Tamara? With a jolt, Tamara realised that everything she had ever known or believed about herself was a lie. With that realisation, Tamara knew that she had no idea who she really was.

"You have every right to be angry with me for not telling you sooner, but you must understand that I kept it from you only with the best of intentions. It was for your own safety." Dumbledore told her, quietly.

Thalia gave a low whistle of sudden realisation, finally understanding exactly what her visions meant. Dumbledore nodded at her, and Thalia let him explain.

"As the adoption certificate states, your birth mother was indeed Rosalyn Landon, not Alison Edgecombe. What you don't know is that Rosalyn was known to many as a particularly gifted witch. To those who knew her, her power was legendary. I saw her do some incredible things. If anyone might have been able to match Voldemort's power, and possibly defeat him, it would have been her. Voldemort knew this, but in his thirst for power and immortality he wanted her power for himself. His attempts to steal it failed, of course, but he tried again and again, eventually resulting in her death. It was a terrible battle." He paused, the look in his eyes telling the girls that he had cast himself back through his memories, replaying the horrible moments of Rosalyn's death in his mind. Suddenly, Jez spoke up.

"Oh yeah!" She exclaimed. "I remember in History of Magic once, Professor Binns told us about it. It was only in passing, but he did. He said that after she died, there had been a media blackout of the subject because the Ministry of Magic didn't want it to look like You-Know-Who was getting the better of them, and that's why not many people know about her now."

The first thought that crossed Tamara's mind on hearing this was the incredulity of anyone remembering anything from History of Magic, what with Professor Binns' exceptionally dull teaching methods. But that Jez should remember information about her birth mother... that took Tamara's breath away. Dumbledore, however, did not wait for them to process this information. He went on.

"No-one knew, though, that Rosalyn had a daughter. You. She trusted only me with that knowledge. She was so afraid that if Voldemort knew about you that you would be in danger. Having you adopted was the most difficult decision she ever could have made, but she did it to conceal your identity, and your existence. Until now it worked. No-one except me knew your true identity. I confess I didn't anticipate Miss Riordhan's special gift. The fact is, though, that I doubt it will be possible to keep your identity a secret from Voldemort forever. If and when he does discover you, your safety will be severely compromised, at which point I fear you will have no choice but to face him. Thalia knows this." He told them, turning to look at Thalia. Silently, Thalia nodded. Tamara closed her eyes, breathing heavily. This revelation was terrifying, but of all the things she had thought Dumbledore might say when she confronted him, she had never expected this.

"What happened after she died?" Tamara asked, her mouth dry.

"Your Mother's death marked Voldemort's failure. It drove him insane. In his madness, he went after the Potter family on the information of a half-heard prophecy, not wanting to wait for the full truth to be revealed. This, of course, was his second failure. As you know, he killed Lily and James Potter but his downfall in their son, Harry. I never thought I'd see a wizard descend so far into madness. Not even Voldemort. Consumed with madness and a thirst for revenge, he has attempted to kill Harry for the past five years. I fear that when he learns of your existence, he will become more dangerous still. He will know that you have inherited Rosalyn's power." Dumbledore fell silent, having finished the story. It was Jez who spoke again.

"Are you absolutely sure that Tamara really inherited all this power?" She asked. "I mean, look at Neville Longbottom and his parents. They were gifted Aurors, but Neville doesn't seem to show the same abilities at all."

"That's a fair comment." Dumbledore replied. "I did everything I could think of to be sure. I do not have any doubt that Tamara has her Mother's power. You take after her, you know, and you certainly inherited her gift for potion making. There is one final test, though." He told them cryptically. While Dumbledore stood up again, and removed a number of objects from the compartment in the wall, Tamara mused at his revelation that he thought she had a gift for potions, and that she had inherited her gift from Rosalyn. Perhaps her affection for Snape and his potions class went further than a silly school girl crush after all. When she saw the objects that Dumbledore had placed on his desk, however, she immediately cast these thoughts aside. They were exactly the same as the drawings in Thalia's notebook. If Tamara had any lingering doubts about Thalia's psychic ability, they all but dissipated now. Dumbledore read their expressions and gave a small smile.

"You've guessed that these belonged to Rosalyn." He said. "I think she had an idea that something was going to happen to her because she put that book together not long before she died. It was something she left for me to give to you when the time came. It contains all the information you'll need about the kind of magic she used. Needless to say, it could be a very dangerous tool in the wrong hands. I suggest you keep it in a safe place." With that, he pushed the book towards Tamara. She was hesitant at first, but after a moment she reached forward to gingerly touch the cool surface of the book. What struck Tamara was how familiar it felt. She felt distinctly as though she had just been reunited with a long lost friend.

Dumbledore pointed to the next object; the dagger, explaining that Rosalyn wore boots just like Tamara's, and that she used to kept the dagger hidden in her left boot. The wooden chest contained a series of potions, mostly healing elixirs made from complex recipes. Rosalyn had a particular affinity for healing work, Dumbledore explained, telling Tamara with a wink that she might like to consider a career in this area given her propensity for potion-making. Later, when Tamara reconsidered Dumbledore's words, she might begin to wonder if there was more to his statements about her gift in Potions class than there appeared to be, but at present Tamara was so overwhelmed by the revelation that she was adopted and was now being reunited with her birth mother's most precious things, not to mention the news that she would inevitably have to face _Voldemort_ (she had better get used to saying his name, she thought to herself) that nothing else registered.

"Her most treasured possession," Dumbledore continued, "is this amulet." With that, he held out the pendant that Thalia had drawn. "This is a very special amulet, and one that can only be used by a true Landon. It allows the wearer to concentrate and direct great quantities of their power. It is a tribute to your family. This is the final test. If you have inherited Rosalyn's power the amulet will recognise you."

With that, Dumbledore handed Tamara the amulet. It was warm to the touch, but when she fastened it around her neck nothing happened. At first. After a moment, the amulet started to glow, and then all of a sudden a great burst of white light filled the room before disappearing. Dumbledore was grinning and Jez and Thalia were awed. Dumbledore had been right. But Tamara was filled with a feeling she had never felt before; familiarity. Everything that she had felt was missing in her adoptive family was suddenly restored. After all these years, she knew who she was and she felt whole.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	6. Truth and Freedom

**Chapter 6 – Truth and Freedom**

_~ In love, if love be love, if love be ours,  
Faith and unfaith can never be equal powers:  
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all._

_It is the little rift within the lute,  
That by-and-bye will make the music mute,  
And ever widening, slowly silence all._

_The little rift within the lover's lute,  
Or little pitted speck in garnered fruit,  
That rotting inward slowly moulders all._

_It is not worth the keeping, let it go.  
But shall it? Answer, darling, answer no,  
And trust me not at all, or all in all. ~  
-Tennyson_

Despite the wholeness Tamara felt at understanding her true heritage, the enormity of such a revelation was still overwhelming. No-one said anything on the journey back to Ravenclaw Tower. No-one knew what to say. For much of the walk, Tamara simply felt the numbness of shock, not quite knowing how to process it all. When they arrived at the portrait which guarded Ravenclaw Tower, Jez muttered the password and they all stepped through.

In the common room everything looked normal. Ordinary daily life had apparently continued on in spite of the incredible change Tamara was faced with, and somehow she couldn't fathom it. It was this that finally pierced Tamara's numbness. Holding back the tears that began to sting, she turned on her heel and headed up to her dormitory to hide the things Dumbledore had given her and slipped unseen back out through the portrait.

When Tamara headed up the stairs and out of sight, Jez turned to follow her but Thalia's hand on her shoulder held her back. "Give her some time" Thalia whispered.

Tamara wandered through the corridors, aimlessly, silently shedding all the tears she had to cry until finally she could cry no more. She had no sense of direction; just knew that she wanted to be somewhere that felt safe and familiar. It was thanks to this that she found herself heading in the direction of Snape's office. She had no idea what she would say when she got there, but at present that didn't matter. She simply needed to be close to him.

****

Severus Snape idly tapped his fingers on his office desk. He had given up trying to concentrate on marking homework. It was simply too mundane to prevent his attention from wandering.

Hesitantly, he opened a book that was sitting on the desk and took out a letter that he had hidden there. It was strange coming from her, and a little unnerving. She was a good student and always aspired to achieve the very best results, but he had never considered that she could possibly have such sentiments toward him. And she was persistent. Perhaps he had underestimated her.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he actually did appreciate her efforts. But still, he wished he could be left alone. He hated people interfering in his business. And how could they possibly understand? Especially a girl so young. She would never understand, and he resented her for pretending that she could. What did she know of suffering and loneliness?

Maybe he was being selfish, but if he was selfish then so was she. How could she justify making him face again the things that he knew would already haunt him for a lifetime? She had seen for herself at Halloween some of the things he had been through.

He felt a surge of guilt at these thoughts. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he had so much pent up anger and pain that he felt a need to blame someone, and she had so conveniently involved herself. Who better to blame?

His hand tensed and the letter crumpled in his grasp. He hated the man he'd become. He hated himself for doing this to her, but it was the only coping mechanism he'd ever known. He didn't know how he could ever change. He didn't deserve her compassion. It made him burn with guilt at the things he'd seen and done. He wanted so desperately to be rid of that.

A sudden knock at the door shook him from his thoughts. He stuffed the letter under the pile of papers on his desk and agitatedly told the emissary to enter. To his utter shock, the very girl he'd been thinking about entered his office.

Her expression was different from usual. She looked tired, older, like she had suddenly aged years in that one afternoon even though she retained her youthful form. And her eyes were red. She had been crying. Was it possible that she finally knew the truth? A truth that only Dumbledore knew, and had trusted him with so that he could protect her. But seeing her grief written so plainly on her face made him realise that she really was starting to become more to him than a girl he had been asked to keep safe. He wondered briefly if Dumbledore had told her of his involvement, but decided that it was the Headmaster's business, and dismissed the matter.

But all this aside, he had not counted on seeing her in a moment when he felt so vulnerable, and though he did not intend it, it showed in his facial features in a most unbecoming manner.

Tamara was startled at the look on Professor Snape's face when he saw her enter his office. The blood drained from his cheeks and his expression contorted, reflecting an indescribable mixture of emotion. His eyes blazed, never leaving her face. She felt as though he was holding her prisoner in his stare, and he seemed completely devoid of words. Perhaps she had picked a bad time, but she had made her decision to come here and she wasn't going to back out now.

"Sir?" She addressed him, meekly, not quite knowing what else would spill from her lips. He said nothing, his knuckles turning white. Tamara had never been afraid of this man, but for the first time she could feel a drop of that very emotion begin to creep through her. She didn't allow it control of her. She gathered herself and mustered every drop of strength and confidence her body possessed. _This is the man you love_, she reminded herself.

"Sir, I came to apologize." She told him, her voice drawing surprising power with every word. Snape's expression changed startlingly. He had not expected that.

Severus wished she would leave, but at the same time was glad she had come. He longed to hear what she had to say. Sighing inwardly, he silently knew he was beginning to accept the feelings that he suspected Dumbledore had already seen growing within him. Perhaps that was even the reason why the old man had trusted him with such an important task. But while Dumbledore recognised Snape's growing, unconscious, need for Tamara's approval and support, beyond that he could only guess at Snape's turbulence of feelings, and how deeply they really went, though he had his suspicions about that too. In truth, Dumbledore wasn't quite sure how to approach the situation. On the one hand, there were rules about teacher-student relationships, but on the other hand he didn't doubt that Snape would remain professional, and if the younger man finally had something other than his past hurts to motivate him, then so be it.

At present, however, Tamara took Snape's lack of words as permission to speak, and continued.

"I just wanted to apologize for my behaviour in the corridor earlier, and for involving myself in your business. It was wrong of me." She told him.

Tamara had the horrible feeling that he knew as well as she did that she wasn't entirely sincere in her apology. She wasn't sorry for the way she had acted. On the contrary, she would have done the same thing if she were caught in the same situation again. But she did want to show him that she respected him. And she felt safe with him. After what she had just discovered, she needed a refuge and simply just to be with him, and this was her excuse.

"Be that as it may," he replied, "I would appreciate a little more sincerity if you must insist on disturbing me at such an hour." His steely tone of voice was just a cover, of course, but the look on her face told him that she hadn't realised this.

Tamara felt as though she had just swallowed a brick. Madly, she searched her mind for the right words to say, and eventually settled on the truth... at least as much of the truth as she dared to say. She closed her fingers around the amulet at her neck and instantly felt a bolt of defiance surge through her. Squaring up, she forced herself to look him in the eye, despite the fear he had instilled in her when she had first entered his office.

"Alright, I think you're being selfish." She blurted out. "You wallow in your guilt and emotions, dwelling on the past and feeling sorry for yourself. I think you need to understand that the world's problems are not your fault, and you can't hold people at arm's length for ever. No-one can change the past. It's over. If you don't start living in the present, you'll wake up one day to find that your whole life has passed you by. I know it's hard, but you need to let go and start living again. Not everyone is out to hurt you." She said with a sigh. She hadn't expected the exchange to become so personal when she had first approached his office.

Severus, however, fell silent. Her words stung with brutal honesty. They contained a truth he did not wish to face.

When Snape didn't reply, Tamara decided that it would be a prudent time to leave. She had said her piece, and it wouldn't do to push the point. She could only leave him with her opinion. What he did with it was entirely his choice. Turning away, she departed the office, pausing in the doorway and glancing back before leaving.

"I meant what I said in the letter. There are people who care. I care." With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Severus felt his heart sink as the door closed behind her. He hadn't realised what he'd done until it was too late, and now his ruthless means of self-protection had cost him the one person who seemed willing to give him a chance; the one person beside Dumbledore who seemed to believe in him, and the one person beside Dumbledore who was beginning to mean something to him. He felt like such a fool, but he was at a loss for how to react. Pride prevented a direct outburst, but his mind was already working at an accelerated pace. He had to do something. He couldn't let her walk away like that.

Tamara walked away from the Potions Master's office with her head held high, fighting the urge to curl up on the floor. Perhaps she'd been too rash, and perhaps she shouldn't have gone to see Snape at all, but the words had been said and she decided that she didn't regret it. It was almost as though her heart had given her no choice in the matter. It was simply something he needed to know, and if she didn't say it, who would?

Suddenly, a voice called her name. "Tamara!" Tamara whirled round to see her beloved heading purposefully toward her. For a moment she couldn't move, couldn't comprehend. She stood, frozen. Snape had come after her?

Her heart was beating, faster and faster. She couldn't believe he'd actually called her by her first name. Somehow, it made her feel like more than just one of his students… it made her feel almost like his equal. Her heart continued to pound as he stopped in front of her.

"I asked you for your sincere opinion, and I believe it is only fair that I offer you my response." He told her, in barely more than a whisper, placing a hand on her arm he ushered her around the corner to a part of the corridor that wasn't so obvious.

Tamara allowed herself to be guided round the corner by the strong arm of Professor Snape and leant back against the wall as he bent forwards over her. His hand trailed down from her arm and settled inconspicuously, and unconsciously, on her waist. His stance wasn't imposing, though, and the look in his eyes slowly began to melt Tamara's fear away. As she stood, her eyes fixed on his, she felt more sympathy than she had felt for anyone before; a sympathy that spurred her love for him more strongly than ever. She wanted nothing more than to give him all the love she possessed and then some, confident that she could begin to alleviate the burden that hindered his healing process.

It was at that moment, however, that Snape seemed to return to his senses. He jerked his arm back from her waist, realising how dangerously close he had been to losing control of himself. He pulled himself back, turning away from her with a frown. Taking a deep breath before turning to look at her once more, he rearranged his features to resemble as much of a neutral manner as he could manage. Tamara watched him, her gaze never wavering and completely understanding and accepting his reaction. She desperately wanted to say something to him; a few words of comfort… anything. But now it was his turn to speak, so she remained silent.

"Miss Edgecombe (her heart sighed as he reverted to this formality), I appreciate your concern and I appreciate your honesty. There aren't many who have had the inclination or the determination to see through such an unpleasant task. You have my thanks for that. Perhaps those traits could also be put to use in my classes. You had such promise before your concentration began to waver." He paused, watching her face for her reaction. This was the best way he could think of to let her know how much her efforts really meant to him while at the same time retaining an appropriate professional exterior. He hoped she understood this. Her face, however, showed nothing more than breathlessness, but after a moment she smiled a small but sweet smile and nodded. Satisfied, her returned her nod, curtly, and standing back turned to leave.

Tamara watched as he stepped back from her, and began to head back toward his office. His words were wonderful. Of course she couldn't be sure that there was a deeper implication in his words, but if there was (as she suspected there was) then he had weaved his statement very cleverly indeed. She never expected him to step beyond the bounds of professional decorum, but it was just like him to find a diplomatic and appropriate way of telling her exactly what he wanted her to know.

Before turning the corner, however, Snape stopped and turned to glance at her over his shoulder. The corner of his lip turned up ever so slightly in a barely distinguishable smile, but a smile no less. He did not linger, and swept around the corner out of sight. There it was. Her confirmation of what had been so artfully concealed in his words. Tamara leant her head back against the wall, a smile spreading infectiously over her face. She knew he'd probably deny all existence of this, come tomorrow morning, but at least _she_ knew it was real and she would hold to that.

****

Over the next few days, Tamara's found it hard to concentrate, despite what Snape had told her in the corridor. She realised that she was no closer to fathoming what she had discovered in Dumbledore's office (and in the library with Thalia come to mention it) than she had been that first night. She sat through her classes, going through pre-empted motions of school work, simply unable to turn her thoughts away from the latest events. After her confrontation with Snape, she felt that some of the weight on her shoulders had been lifted, and even he seemed to be showing symptoms of humanity though he did, indeed, deny all existence of the past few days, but she was far from free. The gravity of her situation and the enormity of the revelation of her adoption and what her true heritage meant for her was both frightening and devastating. Tamara was not who she thought she was. She had no idea who she really was except that she would one day have to fight in the war, and that was terrifying. She was barely 17! How on earth could she take on Voldemort and survive?! Though she hadn't broached the subject with Jez, who as her room-mate probably knew, Tamara had cried herself to sleep every night since that fateful conversation with Dumbledore.

"Hey!" She heard a voice in her ear, as Neville Longbottom nudged her.

"Can you help me with the answers, again?" He asked one morning in a Transfiguration theory lesson. Tamara tried to shake herself out of her thoughts and turned back to her work. After a few minutes, Tamara caught a glimpse of her friends. She watched as Thalia sketched perfect diagrams onto the page in front of her, and stared in disbelief as Hermione Granger crammed her parchment with her tiny handwriting. She shook her head thinking _I have got to pull myself together_. She turned to her side, where Neville was watching her, expectantly.

"I can't give you the answers in the exam, you know." She told him, irritably.

"Please, Tamara! Just this once." He begged. Ernie Macmillan turned around, from in front of them.

"She's right, you know. You really should start paying more attention to Professor McGonagall." He told Neville. At that moment, Professor McGonagall stood up and warned them that if they weren't quiet, they would all end up in detention. The three fell silent immediately. Ernie and Tamara returned to their work, and Neville followed suit, grudgingly.

Even though Tamara's discovery presented a painful upheaval, knowledge of her place in the war had a rather sobering effect, instigating a considerable change in Tamara. In her attempt to "pull herself together" she took Snape's advice concerning concentration a bit too literally.

But, it was one day in the aforementioned Snape's potions class that Thalia saw the sweeping change in Tamara become most pronounced. Thalia saw none of the passion and emotion she knew was ingrained in Tamara's personality. She simply watched as the very essence of her friend radiated the utmost seriousness. Every move Tamara made seemed to be deliberate, and calculated. She added each ingredient to her potion as though this would be the very one she would use against Voldemort. She didn't seem to be afraid of the inevitable meeting with Voldemort, but still she took it with the utmost seriousness.

Thalia wasn't the only person who saw the transformation in Tamara. Hermione, who was working next to her, watched as she poured out her Salamander blood to the exact millimetre and Snape, who came to stand behind her, watched over her shoulder as she turned the fire below the cauldron to the exact degree required, administered the blood at marked intervals, and stirred at exactly 45 degrees before continuing to add the other ingredients.

"Strive for excellence rather than perfection, Miss Edgecombe. Perfectionism does little more than waste time." He told her, his voice was disparaging but inwardly his concern mirrored Thalia's. Slowly, Tamara turned to look at him. Her eyes betrayed no sense of emotion, nothing. She simply stood, as unmoved as stone. She nodded her response and merely turned back to her potion without a saying a word, continuing to cultivate it to her perfection. Snape glared at her defiance, and continued to prowl about the class room. Hermione narrowed her eyes in confusion and Thalia tried her best not to worry.

That evening, Tamara sat in the library with her Mother's book open in front of her, charmed to look like a potions book, absorbing masses of the complicated information that lay there. Knowledge was power. But what was the one thing that didn't lie at her fingertips? As she searched her mind, she realised that it was family history. There was so much she still didn't know about her ancestry. What if there was something written in that ancestry that would aid her in her battle? And if there was something that could be used against her, she would need to be prepared for that too. Slowly, she related her concerns to Jez and Thalia, every word deliberate and heavy with meaning and emphasis. The girls agreed, and were soon combing the library for any reference to the name 'Landon'. As Tamara searched the shelves where the records were kept, she noticed Hermione Granger searching the same shelf from the other side. Their eyes met, and in an instant, Tamara knew Hermione had overheard their discussion. Slowly, Hermione slid a folded piece of parchment across the shelf. Warily, Tamara took it. Written on the parchment was a name. Elizabeth Landon. In brackets was written 'muggle lawyer'. Tamara lifted her eyes back to Hermione.

"I would be privileged to help you in anyway I can." Was Hermione's simple statement. With that, Hermione turned and disappeared from the behind the shelf. Tamara watched her for a few moments before turning her eyes back to the parchment, wondering what it meant and how she could be related to the woman on the piece of paper. Absently, her fingers groped for the comforting worn iron of her amulet. All at once she realised the irony of her actions. While she was attempting to awaken Snape to life, she seemed to have forsaken life herself. A fleeting memory of one of Dumbledore's defence against the dark arts classes reminded her of the power of love, and once more she understood that her passion would be the key to her success. In a funny kind of way she was glad she knew the truth, now. It was beginning to mould her into the woman she would become; passionate, mature and strong. Tamara had been freed by the truth.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	7. Thalia's Gift

**Chapter 7 - Thalia's Gift**

_The light of a thousand candles glinted against the walls of a magnanimous hall that was shrouded in velvet darkness. The haunting strains of ghostly violins reached from every direction, like the fingers of a spectre grasping at the bones of the living. But the blood did not chill. It boiled, throbbing through the veins, heart pounding as though its restraints would break at any moment. Just seconds away from bursting from one's chest, it was bound by nothing except the necessary but heart-wrenching control that consumed every fibre of their being, the grief of such imperative concealment welling up till they could hardly bear it. Their bodies ached with the desire to give way to the unrelenting passionate hunger that threatened to break loose._

_  
Couples danced, stagnantly, moving as though icicles really had formed in their bones, but the heat of the power of the passion that threatened to boil over began to melt a path in the centre of the stone cold crowd. The dead couples gave way to the life that existed only in two souls. A woman, whose life was bound to his heart, stood regally in the centre of the crowd, radiating warmth, beauty and strength. She alone could have melted a hole in the icy crowd, though to be alone would've been more than her heart could bear._

_  
But she was not alone. A man dressed all in black emerged from the shadows, the flames of the candles dancing eerily across his face. He stepped forward, facing the woman in the centre of the room. He was not possessed by the same iciness that possessed the others, but he was cold none the less. He lacked her warmth. For a moment they simply stood, searching the depths in each other's eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, he offered his hand to her, opening his dark heart at last to the light that she yearned to give him._

_  
A warm smile spread across her regal but otherwise expressionless face, truly allowing her line to shine through. She moved toward him, fluidly, almost as though she were floating. She lifted her chin so that her lips were millimetres away from meeting his, and took hold of his hand, never breaking away from his gaze. In what seemed like a timed and choreographed sequence, he placed his arm about her waist and together they danced, giving life and warmth to what had become so cold. They danced as though floating in a trance, wrapped up in each other's embrace, completely lost in one another. Their lips locked in a kiss that could have ended an ice-age and all at once, the one who saw beyond the bounds of time and space realised the magnitude of what had happened, and what would come to pass. With one kiss not only had two souls become united, but so had light and dark... warmth and cold... fire and ice... They were one._

Thalia awoke with a start. She glanced about the room, making sure that she was back on the right plane of existence. Cold sweat covered her face, as it always did when she'd had a vision. It took a moment before she remembered where she was, and when she did it did nothing to slow the rush of hot blood through her veins. She'd learnt to live with the visions, but she didn't think she'd ever get used to their intensity. The things she saw were nothing compared to the things she felt. It was one of the things she hated about her gift. She always felt exactly what the people in her vision felt, which meant that over the years she'd felt more emotion than any normal person should, magical or not. By all accounts it should have broken her a thousand times over, but the feelings were not hers. She was simply an eavesdropper, sampling other people's feelings.

She looked up at her friends, and it seemed that the only one who had noticed anything was Tamara. Thalia gazed at her through blurry eyes, her head pounding. For a moment, it looked as though Tamara was wearing a long black evening gown. The look on Tamara's face as she studied Thalia was the same regal expression the woman in her vision had worn. Spots danced in front of Thalia's eyes, and violins could still be heard from far away. She groaned, and placed her head in her hands on the table.

Tamara didn't have time to ponder Thalia's sudden strange behaviour. At that moment, Hermione dropped a heavy book onto the table, in front of them.

"I knew it was here, somewhere." She was saying.

Tamara turned her concentration towards Hermione, who was suddenly looking a trifle nervous now that she had everyone's attention. Tamara understood exactly how she felt. She herself had experienced the pressure to fit into a new group of people. The burden of fitting in with your peers, especially when you were different from them, was something Tamara was no stranger to. She remembered only too well her first few weeks as a student at Hogwarts. Entering a school without knowing anyone, with nothing to do but continue the efforts that reinforced your status as a geek… this was an experience that plagued Tamara's memory. But somehow, by some miracle, she had become accepted by this community. She was grateful that she had finally been given the chance to be a part of the society she had been integrated into, and would always be thankful for the chance to be more than what they thought possible, but now she had to be what she had been born to be.

She reached for the thick volume and turned its dusty cover, unable to make out the faded title. The book looked as though it were more than a hundred years old, which was really no surprise when she saw some of the birth dates that were written there. Slowly, she flipped through the pages, her heart beginning to beat faster at the thought of what she might find there.

At last she came across a name she recognised. With a jolt, she realised that this name was her own. Her name, like the people on the page, was Landon. This name seemed to belong to a woman named Agnes, who was evidently her grandmother. A double line connected Agnes Landon with Derek Landon, indicating that they were married. A line extended from this couple and branched off to show their children. Tamara's heart skipped a beat as she saw her Mother's name. But it didn't branch off to show her children. Tamara's name wasn't on the page. Thalia caught the expression on her friend's face and was quick to reassure her.

"Don't worry about it, Tamara. Remember how Dumbledore said that she wanted to conceal your existence to protect you from Voldemort?" She told Tamara. Tamara took a breath and nodded. Scanning the page for more information, she found that a line connected Rosalyn Landon with Janice Croft. Janice was her Mother's sister. Tamara's Aunt. There was what appeared to be a broken double line between Janice and Robert Croft. A line extended from them to show their only daughter, Elizabeth Landon, who appeared to have kept her Mother's maiden name of Landon. Tamara tapped the page with her wand, and all at once various information appeared. Under every name except Rosalyn's, it said in green letters "muggle-born". Red letters showed, also, that all the family members on the page, except for Elizabeth, were deceased. Tamara shook her head in disbelief.

"So that's another reason why she wanted to protect me. He murdered my entire family. She didn't want to risk losing me, too." She murmured to herself.

"Elizabeth was the only other person who lived, besides you." Hermione pointed out. "You and your cousin are all that are left of your family."

"Isn't it strange, though? They were all muggle-born except for Rosalyn and Tamara. Do you think that has any significance?" Adelaide asked. The girls had filled her in on everything at Tamara's insistence. Adelaide had been there for her in her greatest moments of need, and Tamara trusted her implicitly. Hermione shrugged in response to the question, and Thalia traced her lips, thoughtfully.

"What does the broken line between Janice and Robert Croft mean?" Asked Jez, craning to see the book.

"It means that they're divorced." Hermione answered.

"Is that why Elizabeth kept her Mother's maiden name, then?" Jez asked again.

"Probably." Was Hermione's answer.

"How do you feel about this, Tamara?" Thalia asked her friend. It took a long time before Tamara was able to tear her eyes away from the page but when she finally did she looked up at Thalia.

"I don't know. I really don't know how to feel about any of it. I guess I just need to give it some time to sink in. After all, it doesn't really change anything. I'm still going to end up facing Voldemort." She said with a sigh.

"Yes, but at least you'll be able to face him knowing who you are." Thalia told her. Those words summoned an incredible well of strength in Tamara. She gave her friend a grateful smile. Thalia smiled back. The group sat in silence for a moment. A shudder from Jez, however, broke the gentle quiet that had fallen over them.

"I wish you wouldn't say that name!" She muttered. "Seriously though, guys. Don't you think you're jumping into things a bit too quickly? You-Know-Who doesn't even know she exists, yet. Can we just concentrate on keeping her safe, for now? Isn't that what Rosalyn wanted?" She asked. Tamara and Thalia exchanged guilty looks. Jez was right, of course. Rosalyn had sacrificed her life to protect Tamara, not so that Tamara could put her life in unnecessary danger. Technically, Tamara was in Rosalyn's debt. That debt had to be repaid. Tamara had to make sure that she would succeed where her Mother had failed.

"You're right. But at least she'll be prepared for all eventualities." Hermione argued. Tamara looked up at her in surprise. She hadn't expected such an immediate reply from someone who had only just begun working with them. She quickly deduced that to have someone like Hermione around might be useful after all. In answer, Jez stood up and stretched.

"It's getting late. Shall we call it quits while it's still time to get dinner?" She asked. Thalia nodded, and stood up.

Hermione looked slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything. Adelaide, however, was writing feverishly, lost in homework. Tamara reached over and placed her hand over Adelaide's.

"I realise that you have homework, but you need to get some rest. You'll burn yourself out, if you're not careful." She told her fourth year friend. Adelaide shook her head.

"I'll join you later. I'm almost finished." She insisted. Tamara looked dubious, but she agreed. With that, they gathered up their things and turned to leave. At the last minute, Tamara reached for the book on the table and took it with her.

Tamara hung back as they all headed toward the Great Hall for dinner. She didn't notice, but Thalia had hung back, too, and was watching her, pondering the meaning of the vision she hadn't told them about. Tamara was now clutching the book tightly against her chest, and staring ahead, unblinkingly. Her demeanour was so resolute that it was almost unnerving. As Thalia watched her, she couldn't shake the notion that Tamara was the woman in her vision. The more she studied her friend, the more she saw of the woman in the black dress. It made sense that it would be her who would unite the powers of fire and ice, but who was the man? Was there something Tamara was not telling her?

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Tamara, lost in her thoughts, wasn't watching as he came around the corner. Oddly enough, neither was he. Thalia watched, open-mouthed, as Tamara collided with Professor Snape. All at once, she could hear violins sounding from every direction, and Tamara was again wearing the long black evening dress.

Thalia smiled to herself, and shook her head. But now that she saw it, it seemed impossible for her not to have seen it. How could she not have noticed that Tamara was in love with him? It seemed so blatantly obvious. And judging from her vision, it would only be a matter of time before Tamara and her Dark Prince united the forces of good and evil.

Tamara fell silent as she suddenly felt his warm body against hers. She glanced up at him, not knowing what to say, and he was looking down at her in a similar manner. Without saying a word, he moved away from her and gave her a curt nod before disappearing down the corridor ahead of them.

When they all entered the Great Hall for dinner a few moments later, Hermione headed over to the Gryffindor table, leaving Tamara, Jez, and Thalia to join the Ravenclaw table on their own. As Tamara sat down, she noticed that Snape had just joined the Staff table. Thalia nudged her as she continued to stare at him.

"The Potions Master, hm? Interesting choice for a teacher crush." Thalia whispered, with a devilish smile.

"Is there anything you don't know about me?" Tamara asked, witheringly.

"Probably not. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Thalia reassured her. Tamara smiled back at her.

"Does Jez know?" Thalia asked. Tamara nodded.

"I think she knew it before I did." Tamara told her. Jez turned to listen in when she heard her name being mentioned.

"Thalia knows about my feelings for a certain person." Tamara explained. Jez grinned and rubbed her hands together gleefully.

"This is going to be so much more fun now someone else knows." She said, wickedly.

"If you really want to have some fun with it, why not tell Juliet Malone? I can practically guarantee that she'd find a way to let the whole school know within five minutes of finding out." Thalia commented, joining in the teasing.

"Oh, don't say that." Tamara groaned. "She'd probably wait until everyone's in the Great Hall, and publicly announce it, or something."

"Nothing would surprise me where Juliet is concerned." Jez replied. "Speaking of which; did you say something to Snape? He's been acting really weird lately."

"Yeah, I noticed the humanity, too." Thalia interjected.

"So what if I did." Said Tamara, innocently, remembering the conversation in his office and shortly afterward in the corridor when he had come after her.

"YOU DIDN'T!" Jez yelled in exclamation.

"Do you mind?!" Tamara hissed, hushing her friend.

"Sorry." Jez hung her head, sheepishly. Tamara sighed, dramatically, in exasperation.

"So… what did you say to him?" Jez went on, eagerly.

"Does it matter what I said?" Tamara replied, trying her best to avoid the subject.

"But you did say something?" Jez asked, ignoring her friend's waspish remark.

"Yes, I said something to him. Happy?"

"Just checking... so I know there actually was a cause for Snape's sudden change of mood. I would hate to think that he's sick or something." She answered, sarcastically. Tamara didn't even bother to reply. She simply shook her head in annoyance. A few moments later, however, she turned to look at her friend once more, and they both broke out in grins.

"I take it you're gathering more confidence in talking to him, then. Have you asked him out on a date, yet?" Jez asked, teasingly.

"For your information..." Tamara cut in. "I have restrained myself from taking that particular step. But now that you mention it, he is looking rather sexy tonight." She went on, staring idly down the table at him once more, for dramatic effect.

"Okay, that's just too much. I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but I'm going to have to put a restriction on how much you're allowed to say about him." Jez joked.

"You'll be lucky." Tamara retorted. Thalia shook her head and smiled to herself.

"Hey, didn't Adelaide say she'd be here soon?" Thalia suddenly realised.

"Yeah, she did. We'll check on her on our way back to the common room." Tamara answered. With that, the conversation faded and they all turned back to their dinner. Jez turned her fork over, thoughtfully and none of them seemed all that interested in food.

"Do you know it's only month until Christmas." Jez announced, putting her fork down and stretching.

"I wonder if Dumbledore has anything planned?" Tamara wondered.

"Dunno. Ask Thalia. She's the psychic one." Jez replied.

"Let me just quickly search beyond the bounds of time and space and explore that which is opened up to me." Thalia answered, mockingly, pretending to go into a trance. The girls laughed. After they had all settled down once more, they grew quiet, letting their thoughts tumble around in the moment's silence. Jez, however, found that she could not sustain the silence for very long.

"Tamara?"

"Yes, Jez."

"Are you staying for Christmas this year?"

"Yeah, I think so. But I'll have to convince my mom first."

"How's this for motivation; if you stay, you'll get to spend more time with a certain someone." Jez told her, cunningly.

"I'm gratified that my love-life is so entertaining." Tamara replied, with a fake yawn. At that moment, Snape walked past on the opposite side of the table. He had happened to turn in their direction just as Tamara had spoken her last remark. Jez and Thalia both laughed at the same time, while Tamara buried her face in her hands.

"He had to walk past right then." She groaned, but grinning sheepishly at the same time.

"Perfect timing! This is so much fun!" Jez revelled.

"I'm glad I'm useful for something." Tamara replied. "Come on, we should probably get going, and I want to see what Adelaide got up to."

The girls agreed, and stood up to leave. As they reached the library once more, Tamara saw that Adelaide was still there, still writing feverishly.

"Do you think we should say something?" Jez asked. Tamara didn't reply. She placed her hand on her friend's shoulder and headed into the library without even turning to glance at her. Thalia and Jez followed Tamara to the table where Adelaide sat.

"Hey, Adelaide. How are you doing? Are you almost done?" Tamara asked in a soft, friendly tone of voice. Adelaide didn't look up from her work. She looked highly stressed.

"I was thinking: shouldn't we try to make some sort of contact with Tamara's cousin? If this research is as important as you say it is, we should do everything possible to find out everything we can. Elizabeth Landon might remember something that happened all those years ago that could give us some clues. It could be information that might give Tamara the head start her Mother probably didn't have. It could mean all the difference between victory and failure." Adelaide told them without looking up from her notes, or stopping what she was doing. Tamara glanced at Thalia before she responded. Thalia raised her eyebrow slightly, but gave a slight nod.

"You're right, Adelaide. I'll write her a letter, or something, and ask if I can meet her so we can talk. How does that sound?" Tamara asked, being as gentle as she could.

"Great." Adelaide nodded, still not stopping her work. Thalia and Tamara glanced at each other again.

"Uh, why don't you come up to the common room with us? Perhaps you could give me a hand writing it." Tamara suggested. Adelaide looked flustered.

"I can't. I have so much to do." She replied, her voice cracking.

"Listen, why don't you come upstairs with us, and... you can finish your work in the common room. It's much more comfortable there, and you'll be with your friends." Tamara told her. For the first time since they had entered the library, Adelaide stopped what she was doing. She actually pondered Tamara's suggestion.

"I can finish my work upstairs?" She asked, weakly.

"Yeah." Tamara answered. Slowly, Adelaide nodded. Tamara placed her hand over her friend's, and helped her to pack away her things, relieved that she had been able to convince her to leave the library at last. Hopefully now they would be able to convince her to get some rest, and Tamara would be able to call that House-Elf to get her something to eat. As soon as they had entered the common room, however, Adelaide collapsed into one of the armchairs by the fire and fell asleep.

"Well, that solves that problem. Are you really going to write Elizabeth a letter?" Jez asked.

"I may as well." Tamara answered. With that, she reached for her bag and pulled out her quill and a piece of parchment.

It was some hours later by the time Tamara had finished the letter, even with the help of her friends. It was amazing how much more difficult writing a letter to a stranger was than writing to the man she loved.

Finally, Tamara was able to crawl into her warm comfortable bed, after the longest day she could remember having for a long time. She fell into a deep slumber that was haunted by dreams of a tall dark man who swept her into his arms and danced with her until she awoke the next morning.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	8. The Rival

**Chapter 8 - The Rival**

_~ I hold it true whatever befall,  
I feel it when I sorrow most:  
'Tis better to have loved and lost,  
Than never to have loved at all. ~  
- Tennyson_

From the tallest tower, she watched the straggles of cloud pass across the greying winter sky. The branches of the trees were bare, and the chill November wind whipped the castle. The winter weather seemed to match Tamara's mood. Not that she was upset, but rather somewhat subdued. The burden of her responsibility was growing heavy indeed. The power and motivation that had initially spurred her into this war was beginning to fade, and she had begun to doubt that she would ever be able to live up to the expectations laid forth by her predecessors, now that her fate had been set in motion.

A dusty old book lay on the floor, still open at the passage she had been reading. Tamara had neglected it some time ago. Instead she sat in the tiny room's window seat, with her knees hugged to her chest, watching the wind tease the stark branches of trees that looked as though they had somehow shape-shifted and taken on the forms of grotesque demons.

"Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?" A cold, drawling voice asked from behind her, startling her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway. She didn't have the energy to retaliate. She turned back to the window and muttered "Why do you care?" in a lifeless voice.

"You're right. I don't." He answered, staring at the room with a slightly jaded look. His eyes fell on the book that lay on the ground. Frowning, he reached forward and lifted it from the floor, reading the title of the passage aloud.

"_Herbal Sedatives and their Uses in Potion-Making_. I thought Potions was your _favourite_ subject. I wonder what Professor Snape would say if he knew that his book is being mistreated?" He wondered, his voice dripping with sarcasm and heavy emphasis.

"Get lost, Malfoy."

"Oh, am I invading your space?"

"Yes," she told him, pointedly.

"Fine. If you don't want to know what I came to tell you then I'll leave."

"What could you possibly have to say to me?"

"Oh, this was too good to pass up."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hey, you told me to get lost."

"Don't waste my time, Malfoy."

A wicked grin spread across Draco Malfoy's face.

"What would be the fun in that?"

"You're sick." She spat, getting up from her seat and storming across the room. She grabbed the book out of his hand and headed toward the door.

"So you really don't want to know what Juliet's being saying." Malfoy asked her, smoothly. Tamara stopped in the doorway and slowly turned to face him.

"This better be good."

"I'm doing you a favour, actually. It seems that someone has a little secret."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, just something Juliet mentioned."

"Look, I don't have time for these childish games. If you don't have anything constructive to say, then I suggest you leave." She told him, pointedly.

"I guess you'll just have to wait for class on Monday to find out, then." He told her, loving every second. After one more lingering moment, he grinned at her, selfishly, and walked out of the tower, leaving her alone to contemplate his words.

That evening, Tamara sat on her bed in the dormitory, with Rosalyn's book open in front of her. She was lost in thought, and not really seeing the words on the pages in front of her. Jez could see it too.

"What's up?" Jez asked. Tamara sighed.

"Malfoy. He thinks he's being clever by trying to worry me."

"He's a little weasel, Tamara, and you shouldn't pay him any attention." Jez told her.

"I know. Malfoy isn't worth that kind of stress, but he can be so relentless sometimes."

"What did he say to you?"

Tamara looked up at Jez, uncomfortably.

"He said that Juliet found out a little secret, and that I would have to wait for class on Monday to find out what's going to happen."

"You don't think they know the truth about your heritage, do you?" Jez asked, alarmed.

"I wasn't thinking about that..." Tamara began, letting her words trail off as she began to ponder.

"I don't understand." Jez replied.

"I think it's my _other_ little secret that Malfoy was talking about." Tamara explained, hesitantly.

"Oh, I see!" Jez exclaimed, understanding dawning on her. "They would definitely be interested in that."

"I'm screwed, aren't I?" Tamara relinquished, worriedly. "I'm going to be a laughing stock again."

"Not unless you bind her, or something."

"You know I can't that do, Jez. Binding is complicated. I wouldn't know where to start. Besides, I could get into big trouble for using it without good reason." She explained.

"I suppose so." Jez said. "Are you absolutely sure that it was your teacher crush that Malfoy was on about? He could have meant your heritage for all we know."

"Come off it. It'd be more trouble than it's worth to publically exploit a secret like that with Voldemort back. Even Juliet isn't that stupid. A Slytherin would only go to those lengths if it was completely worth it to them." Tamara reasoned. "Everyone knows that Juliet hates me. I've practically given her an excuse to bully me."

"You have a point there." Jez relented and the two fell silent, Tamara casting her eyes about the room in search of some minute consolation. Jez took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Yep. You're screwed." She affirmed.

That night was an uneasy one. She woke at half past two the next morning, following a nightmare in which Voldemort had tortured her beloved Potions Master until he finally relinquished the truth about her heritage. She sat up in bed, cold sweat covering her face and body. The dream reminded her starkly of the seriousness of her secret, and did nothing to ease her worries about what Juliet had in store for her in Potions class on Monday.

Unable to coax sleep to return to her, she threw the covers off and got up, intending to wile away the long hours of early morning in the common room. When she arrived in the common room, however, she found that the fire was still burning. True, it was only a few smouldering coals, but the light they gave off seemed oddly iridescent. As she advanced toward the arm chairs that sat by the grate of the fire place, watching her shadow dance across the floor, a voice called out.

"I couldn't sleep either." The bodiless voice announced. If Tamara hadn't known about Thalia's uncanny abilities, then she would have been sure it was a ghost.

She sat in one of the empty chairs, unable to keep from noticing the mysterious look that the shadows gave Thalia's face. The shadows flickering across her pale skin, lining her dark eyes and fading into the vibrant ebony of her long hair, gave her a truly gothic appearance. She was gothic in every sense of the word. Not only was it in the way she looked, but it was in every part of her. It was in her poise, her mind... even in her very soul. It wasn't that she seemed to ooze death, or negativity, though. It was that there was an infinite mystery about her, the way mystery envelopes the all-knowing wisdom of time and space, past present and future. It was the mystery of all things, a gothic beauty, and it was in her.

But Thalia didn't seem interested in sustaining a fruitful conversation. Simply being was enough and words were not necessary. This suited Tamara perfectly. Indeed, words would not have been enough to describe what she felt in that instance. It was like a bolt of lightning, illuminating that vast apocalypse of existence; sudden and emphatic. In that moment, everything, her feelings and emotions, events from both her past and present, came rushing back to her, and in that instant it all became crystal clear. The reasons why she felt so strongly about the things that were so dear to her, why she had decided to fight, and the resolute clarity of her love. It rushed through her veins, stronger than ever before. She no longer felt the pain of loss, or the claustrophobia of her situation. She felt, with such a strong conviction, that no matter what could possibly happen these feelings existed in her and that knowledge gave her a power that nothing else could have bestowed in her.

Thalia smiled, knowingly, the fading haze of the burning coals still flickering across her face. She seemed to know exactly what Tamara had experienced in that singular moment. But it wasn't uncanny. It was truth. Pure and simple. She seemed to know more about Tamara than her gift had ever allowed her to know about anyone.

Tamara turned her attention back to the dying coals in the grate. The pulsing glow was mesmerising. Enchanting. Tamara lost herself in it and eventually fell asleep, contentedly, sure that the light cast from the coals was no longer light, but translucent, incandescent figures that danced before her in all their majesty.

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. Glowing red rays pierced the horizon and the indomitable dark of night, stirring Tamara out of her slumber. At first she didn't recognise her surroundings, but as her foggy, sleep-filled vision cleared, she realised that she had fallen asleep on the banks of the Hogwarts Lake, and had no memory of how she got there. For a few moments she simply allowed the breeze to wash over her, unconsciously shivering as the bite of the chilly late-November wind whipped over her.

Tamara battled the freezing cold in nothing more than her flannelette pyjamas, as she strained to recall the events of the previous night. She remembered waking up and finding Thalia in the common room in front of the fire in the dead of night. That much was clear to her, but after that everything was blank. Apart from the light...

A hand gripping her shoulder, firmly, startled her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see who her companion was, painfully aware of the icy winter wind as she looked up into a pair of eyes that were equally as cold.

"Professor..." she murmured, her voice shaking in the chill wind. Professor Snape said nothing in reply, and his expression betrayed nothing either. Not even a flicker of emotion. It didn't frighten her as such. She knew his disposition. But either she couldn't remember just how cold he could be, or she hadn't seen this depth of iciness in him before. Either way, she was glad he had chosen not to question her on why she was there. She was all too aware of how stupid she would sound if she told him about spirits of light, and at that particular moment she could offer no other honest explanation.

He studied her with a calculating look, for a few moments, before finally addressing her.

"Follow me, Miss Edgecombe." Was all that he said. His tone was ominous, but it didn't bother Tamara. She still felt as though she was half asleep, and in her haze she rose to her feet and followed the Potions Master back into the castle, quietly. The stupor that had taken hold of her was now beginning to loosen its grip, and she was more aware than ever of the painful cold that buffeted her. The castle seemed to be no warmer than the grounds, and Tamara grimaced as Professor Snape led her down toward the dungeons. She knew she would have no hope of defrosting down there.

Snape threw his office door open and ushered her in, impatiently. His office was dark, since no lamps were lit, and the biting icy cold seemed to reach into her very bones. He closed the door, shutting out all sense of light and any heat that might have lingered in the corridors. There were no spirits of light to comfort her now, and he made her no offer to sit down, so she remained standing, her arms and legs aching with the cold. All at once, a single lantern burst with light, casting an eerie shadow across the room. Still, he said nothing, watching her dangerously as she protectively wrapped her arms about her shoulders.

Standing up, he took out his wand and with one wave a silver tray carrying a pot of tea and a mug appeared on the desk in front of her. With that, Snape turned away, under the pretence of being occupied with one of the books on the shelf behind his desk.

"I don't want to know what you were doing outside." He told her with his back to her. "But rules are enforced for a reason. You will return for detention on Monday night at 8 o'clock pm. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"The castle walls cannot protect you if you are not within them." He told her, turning back to face her once more, his expression unchanged. Tamara nodded.

"Yes, sir." She repeated.

"Then I suggest that you hurry up and drink your tea and get back to bed before I make it a week's worth of detentions."

Snape didn't give her the opportunity to question him. He simply walked out of the office, leaving her alone.

Tamara poured the tea and grasped the steaming mug in trembling hands. She failed to comprehend just what had taken place that night, and her confusion was made all the more paramount by the fact that deep down, she knew that she understood perfectly what had taken place. No more explanation was needed, other than that an epiphany had occurred in the still of the night and that in waking beside the lake in the blistering cold proved that she wasn't dreaming. She was alive and strong, and she knew it.

Tamara made her way to Transfiguration on Monday morning with an unusual stillness within her. Nothing had yet happened to cause any trouble, except for the disturbing feeling that thousands of pairs of eyes were burning into her. Eyes that belonged to Slytherins.

Throughout the lesson she tried to concentrate on the complex diagrams that McGonagall had given them to transcribe, but even the motivation of McGonagall's strict standards were beginning to fail her. All she could think about was the upcoming potions lesson, and how she was going to survive it. Jez glanced over at her friend, sympathetically. Potions wasn't until the end of the day. The seed of worry that niggled at Tamara would grow with the anticipation of what the class would bring, until it was an unbearable and crippling anxiety. Quietly, Jez pulled out a spare scrap of parchment and scribbled a message on it; _Don't worry, Tamara. I'll help you work out a plan of survival as soon as class is over._ Jez shoved the message in front of Tamara, who tapped it with her wand as soon as she had read it, causing the parchment to crumble into dust. Thalia looked up, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Tamara noticed Thalia and sighed, exasperatedly, in response. Thalia nodded, understanding at once. Neither of them needed a psychic gift to know that Juliet's eyes burned into Tamara with knowing.

As soon as McGonagall dismissed them, Tamara muttered a quiet incantation and stood up, watching her belongings pack themselves into her bag at record speed. As soon as the catch on her bag had fastened itself, she slung it over her shoulder and left the room in such a hurry that she almost knocked an ominous pile of books off of McGonagall's desk as she passed.

Once in the corridor, Jez and Thalia shunted Tamara into an empty class room a few doors along, joined moments later by Hermione.

"So, what do I do?" She asked them.

"What you need is a distraction. Christmas is coming up. You could think about what you're going to wear. You know, to dress to impress, so to speak." Jez suggested. Hermione shot them a questioning look. Nobody explained.

"The last thing I need right now is attention!" Tamara replied, a hard tone to her voice that would have been more becoming of McGonagall.

"Don't think about the situation at all. Find one thing to concentrate on and that should help get you through the day, at least." Thalia suggested, thoughtfully.

"Any suggestions?" Tamara asked her.

"Your Mother. What you're going to do if you end up having to face You-Know-Who."

"You mean, _when_ I have to face Him."

Thalia didn't respond. They all knew it was true.

"All I'm saying is that you know you need to be prepared for all eventualities, so why don't you focus your attention on that. It would be a lot more useful than stressing about the present situation, which will probably amount to nothing, anyway. It's a useful coping mechanism." Thalia explained.

"And, all you have to do to get through Potions itself is concentrate on your work. It's your best subject, regardless of who teaches it. Ignore the Slytherins. Just concentrate on your work." Jez added. Tamara nodded, resigned to her fate, but deciding to face it with her new found strength. This time, she decided that she wouldn't relinquish her dignity without a fight. Hermione still didn't understand what was happening, and the girls didn't offer an explanation, so she didn't ask.

"If all else fails, just blast the classroom with the wondrous strains of Rammstein!" Jez told her, with a grin. Tamara couldn't help but laugh.

"Rammstein are Muggle rock band from Germany." She explained to Thalia and Hermione. Hermione nodded with faint recognition, but it was obvious that Rammstein were a far cry from her usual musical tastes. But nonetheless, the tension had been broken, and with that the four friends left the room, knowing that they were horribly late for their next class.

Throughout her classes that day, Tamara used the same tactic of survival as she had done when she had first discovered her heritage and the inevitable meeting with Voldemort. Stone cold calculation, every action measured to perfection as though the very charm she were practising would be the one she would use in battle. Her friends almost despaired when they had to join her in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She mastered the lesson's defensive charm with absurd ease, the way she had always done. As the lesson progressed, Thalia watched as Jez took the brunt of the protective charm that Dumbledore was trying to teach them.

When the students were busying themselves with packing up their things at the end of class and bustling out of the room, Dumbledore's hand came to rest on her shoulder and he ushered her into the little office usually used by the Defence teacher. Without a word, he raised his wand and she immediately knew that he had taken her here to test her abilities. She put her bag to one side and taking her wand back out she squared up, preparing herself.

Before she knew what had happened, Dumbledore had cast his spell and she had countered with her own defensive shield and a resounding CRACK! Filled the room. The resulting blast was so powerful that Dumbledore had been knocked backwards, leaning against the teacher's desk for support. Tamara was doubled over. The air between them crackled with magical discharge, almost like bright white electricity. Their charms had been a force of such equal intensity that they had cancelled each other out.

Tamara picked herself up, breathing heavily, and Dumbledore said nothing, but simply looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. His expression told her that he had the utmost confidence in her, which was comforting, but deep down Tamara felt unsettled. It wasn't until she left the office and her friends asked her about it in the relative safety of the library that she really admitted to her concerns.

"Dumbledore tested me." Tamara began. Jez shot her a look of surprise. "I didn't overcome him, obviously..." she went on, "but I think I might almost have equalled him. Our charms sort of cancelled each other out."

"That's great!" Jez exclaimed.

"Well, we all knew the kind of power you inherited. We just never saw it in action before." Thalia interjected.

"It's not enough, though." Tamara told them.

"What do you mean, not enough?" Jez asked, disbelieving.

"It's all well and good being able to equal Voldemort, but the whole point of this is being able to overcome him."

"But I thought that all we were trying to do was keep you alive."

"I saw the look in Dumbledore's eyes when he told me the truth about who I am. It's all or nothing. Between Harry Potter and I the power exists to overcome the ultimate evil. If I chicken out, then we'll never be free of the threat of Voldemort's reign of terror. I hate being one of the one's who the whole world's depending on. The thought that I might fail scares me to death, but there's nothing I can do about it. I have to do this."

Jez didn't have a comeback. She knew that Tamara was right. But, acknowledging it was something she hadn't been willing to do. The four girls spent the next few moments in painful silence.

"What now?" Jez asked, after a five long minutes had passed.

"You need training. You need to be able to control and direct your power." Hermione told Tamara, ever the logical solution.

"How? All I have is my Mother's book. There's only so much you can learn from books." Tamara replied. Hermione, for whom books were her favourite means of learning, chose to ignore this comment.

"Dumbledore. I'm sure he'll coach you."

"I doubt it. He's much too busy. Besides, do you really think he'll be willing to teach a student anything more than classroom level spells?" Tamara asked.

"He might. He knows what you and Harry are both faced with. But if you really want to be sure, then there is someone else who knows what you're going to be up against... someone who won't waste their time with things you can learn in a classroom... someone who'll teach you what you need to know." Thalia told her, knowingly. At first, Tamara had no idea who she was referring to. Then it dawned on her.

"No. No way. Absolutely not. There's no way in hell. It would take a miracle for Snape to agree to this. Besides, you know the added pressure that will give me."

"That's something you're just going to have to live with if you want to be ready. And it might take a bit of persuading, but you're all the miracle you need. He's a capable, intelligent man and he'll understand the necessity." Thalia replied.

"Okay, so how do we convince him?" Jez asked.

"_We_ don't do anything. This is something Tamara is going to have to do by herself. We're not supposed to know, remember?" Thalia told her. Tamara rolled her eyes in trepidation, knowing what she had to do, but not knowing how on Earth she would accomplish it. Jez laughed.

"At least this has taken your mind off Juliet! Boy, if she gets wind that you want extra lessons with Snape, she'll have a field day!"

Tamara shook her head in exasperation.

"I don't know what the hell you lot are talking about, but the situation still remains. This needs to be done. Emotions need to be cast aside for the time being. Tamara still needs to do this if we want to get rid of Voldemort once and for all." Hermione cut in. It took Tamara a moment to realise that Hermione didn't know about her feelings for Snape, but her statement was effective nonetheless. It knocked all the sense and strength in Tamara that she needed. She knew she would do it.

"At least we have Herbology next. We can relax for a bit before anything major needs to happen." Jez voiced.

"Well said." Thalia agreed. "I think I need it. My poor heart won't take any more stress just yet."

The usually easy-going pace of Herbology passed too quickly for comfort. It seemed like they had only been in the greenhouse for ten minutes before they had been dismissed and were heading to Potions. Tamara lined up outside the dungeon with the others not knowing how she would face the lesson, or what she was supposed to do. Her trepidation grew all the more when she noticed that a gang of Slytherins had already gathered there, with Juliet and Draco at the centre. They all seemed to be whispering and looking over their shoulders at her. _Let them._ She thought, standing tall. _I'll be ready for them._

The classroom door swung open and she followed the others into the cold, dank dungeon. Ignoring everyone, and concentrating only on her Potion, she busied herself with adding ingredients. But try as she might, she couldn't help but glance over her shoulder at Juliet. The selfish blonde Slytherin was leaning casually against a bench, watching her. Tamara watched out of the corner of her eye as Juliet sauntered toward her, followed by twenty pairs of Slytherin eyes. Instinctively, she reached inside her robe and closed her fingers around her wand. She didn't have to be able to see when Juliet stood behind her, ready to make her move. She could feel it. She whipped around, and found herself looking directly into a pair of cold Slytherin eyes.

"It's true, isn't it?" Juliet whispered, menacingly. "You're not good enough for him." She told her. Tamara could feel the anger inside her begin to boil. Her knuckles began to turn white, as she clasped her wand tighter than ever. "That's not all you're good enough for. Meet the competition, Edgecombe."

Tamara watched as Juliet squared up, preparing herself, and was completely overtaken by a sudden paranoiac feeling. Whatever was about to happen, she had to stop it.

It happened in a matter of seconds. She had pulled her wand out and had cast her spell before another word was uttered. Juliet had managed to raise her wand in defence, but she was no match for Tamara's power. An unearthly sound filled the dungeon as their two charms collided. A stream of sparkling green issued from Juliet's wand, sapphire blue from Tamara's. The two colours fought for a moment, each struggling to gain control over the other, but Tamara's stream of blue eventually won. The green cloud dissipated in the wake of what appeared to be a pair of blue arms. The arms wrapped themselves around Juliet. The colour disappeared, so that the arms could no longer be seen, but both Tamara and Juliet, and any other magician who knew about binding spells, knew that they were still there, and would remain so until Tamara chose to lift the spell.

Juliet had been bound. She was still able to work magic, but now anything that she wished to use against Tamara, that could sabotage her, would be useless. Juliet's wand dropped from her hand. The look on her face was almost comical. She looked as though she had been taken completely by surprise, rather than seething with anger as Tamara would have expected. The rest of the students looked on in shock. Something was up with Tamara and it scared them. But the person who was the most scared was Tamara herself. She dropped her wand to her side, unable to believe what she had just done.

The one person she did expect to be seething with anger, however, didn't seem to be showing his usual emotion at all. Snape stared at her, almost as though he had been expecting it. This reaction lasted no more than a second, though, and he swept over, ready to punish, as though he knew his reaction had been suspect, though no-one would have noticed unless they were watching for it.

"Girls, my class is not the place for duelling practice. I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour, do you understand me?" He told them, his voice raised just enough to be heard by his students, but not enough to warrant shouting. Ordinarily, Tamara hated hearing him speak with this tone, but in the present situation she was so taken aback that it didn't register at all. All she registered was the odd lack of anger in his countenance. She couldn't help but feel that he was deliberately undermining the seriousness of what had just happened. But why? Had he guessed that this was no ordinary situation? If so, then she rather appreciated his reinforcing her anonymity.

"Miss Edgecombe, you will move your things to the desk at the front of the classroom and finish your work there. I will discuss your detention with you after class. Move." He told her in a commanding, no nonsense voice. Without hesitation, she silently obeyed, knowing she had been given a unique opportunity to gain tutoring lessons and she didn't want to ruin it. Juliet was sent back to her cauldron with little more than a warning.

Tamara continued her work at the isolated bench that was placed directly in front of Snape's desk. Concentration was imperative but Tamara found great difficulty in actually achieving it, knowing that Snape sat in front of her and that he was watching her like a hawk. _Damn it_, she thought, as her hands began to shake. _Why does this keep happening to me? _

As always, however, Tamara was able to cultivate the potion to near perfection. She bottled a sample, corked it and labelled it, and pushed it across onto Snape's desk for marking. She tapped her bag with her wand once more, as she had done in Transfiguration, and all of her belongings began to pack themselves.

All that was left to do was wait for Snape to begin discussing her detention with her, as the rest of the students moved out of the room. She watched as her friends shuffled past. Thalia gave her a wink before moving out of the room, as if to say; "Ask him." Tamara gave a slight, almost undetectable nod, in response.

He remained silent for a few moments after the last student had left the room, and studied her thoughtfully. At last, he spoke.

"You do realize the implications of performing binding spells."

"Yes, sir. But it was an accident. I didn't mean to!"

"That may be so, but you need to control your emotions. I realize by now that you are an uncommonly gifted witch, but you need to be careful with your power. Especially in a class full of Slytherin students, some of whom have Fathers with ties to the Dark Lord."

So that _was_ why he had downplayed the situation in front of the other students.

"I know." She told him. He narrowed his eyes, curiously, at her response.

"You will not always have someone to protect you in these situations. But, as that is what I seem to be doing, I am still going to have to give you detention. If certain students realize what you are capable of, you will be in far worse trouble than any teacher can put you in." He told her. This time, it was her turn to be surprised. Surprised at his willingness to protect her. The least she could do was use this to her advantage.

"You're right. Which brings me to something I've been meaning to ask." She hesitated, not knowing if she had the courage to go through with it, but no longer having a choice. He watched her, waiting for her to continue.

"I cast that spell today without meaning to. The lack of control I had was frightening, not to mention dangerous. I can't let that happen again. I need help learning to control it, and knowing what to do with it." She paused, forcing her eyes turn to him. "I wondered if you would give me a bit of coaching." She finished. He stared at her in surprise. This was obviously not what he had been expecting.

"I imagine Professor Dumbledore would be better suited to this task." He answered, carefully. She had been expecting this response.

"Maybe, but he's so busy and I need specialist training, from someone with specialist experience… Sir." She told him. It was a speech that she had been rehearsing in her mind all afternoon. It felt good to finally say it.

"This isn't something to be taken lightly. I refuse to do anything unless you pursue this with the utmost seriousness. Do you understand?" He asked, a hard edge to his tone.

"I wouldn't have asked you, otherwise." She replied, looking him straight in the eye. He let out a deep breath of air.

"Very well. I will consider it. You will report back here for detention at 8pm. You may go." He told her, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, and turning his attention to marking his students' work. At least his off-hand dismissal was normal, she thought to herself, as she stood up and left the room to catch up with her friends.

Dinner that evening was a very tense affair and she received nothing but glares from Juliet and the group of Slytherins that followed her everywhere she went. Jez and Hermione were strangely quiet. The unusual display of Tamara's power had seemed to frighten them. The only one who seemed to understand was Thalia.

"Don't worry about it, Tamara. What can you expect from someone as powerful as you?" She whispered. Jez and Hermione smiled at her, sheepishly, realising that their fear was misplaced.

"I don't blame you for being afraid. It scared me." Tamara told them.

"Well, before long, the only person you're going to be scaring with your displays of power is Vol… You-Know-Who." Hermione replied, changing her words mid-sentence so as not to draw attention.

"Just as long as Snape agrees to coach me."

"He will. I bet he'll say yes in detention tonight." Jez reassured her. "And then you'll be able to hit two birds with one stone."

"Is that all you ever think about?" Tamara asked incredulously. Jez grinned.

"Seriously Tamara, don't stress about what happened with Juliet in Potions. Did you see the look on her face? The old bag really had it coming! I bet she knows not to mess with you, now." Jez told her.

"Yeah, and you know the risk of it happening again is minimal because you will be having coaching from an expert." Thalia added.

"But he hasn't actually agreed, yet!" Tamara pointed out.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem." Thalia told her, mysteriously. Jez smirked.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Oh, nothing." Thalia said, shrugging it off, knowing that it would annoy Tamara exceedingly.

"Okay, one of you is going to have to tell me what's going on, because it's starting to bug me, now." Hermione cut in. Jez grinned. Before anyone could stop her, she leaned across to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was sat directly behind them, so that she could hear the conversation, and whispered the truth. Tamara buried her face in her hands with an embarrassed smile. The look on Hermione's face was nothing short of shock. Jez's infectious grin spread to her, and she couldn't help but shake her head and smile. Thalia placed a comforting hand on Tamara's shoulder.

"What's all the commotion about?" Asked a familiar but strained voice. They all looked up to see Adelaide.

"We haven't seen you in days. Are you alright?" Tamara asked, glad for the opportunity to change the subject.

"Yes, I'm just tired. I've been under a lot of pressure, lately, that's all." Adelaide responded, trying not to let her voice crack. Tamara didn't miss the way her hand shook as she reached forward to pour herself a goblet of pumpkin juice. Thalia noticed it, too. She raised an eyebrow at Tamara.

"I know. We all are. Just make sure you're eating properly, getting plenty of sleep, and taking time out to relax." Tamara told her.

"You sound like my Mother." Adelaide responded with a smile.

"She made a joke!" Jez shrieked. She bounded forward and wrapped her arms around Adelaide. "Welcome back to the club!" She told her. Adelaide smiled again, but Tamara and Thalia couldn't help but notice that it seemed to simply be a cover for the amount of strain she was under. To Tamara, she looked like a stretched elastic band that would snap at any moment. Tamara was worried, but as long as they were looking out for Adelaide, she couldn't worry herself unnecessarily about it. After all, she had her own life-threatening problems to worry about.

Later that evening, Tamara stood in the dormitory she shared with Jez examining her image in the mirror. She wore a pair of warm black trousers and a figure-accentuating sweater that she had borrowed from Jez. Over her shoulders, hung her Hogwarts robe, her hair tied in a single braid down her back. Her wand stowed carefully in her robes, she turned to leave, her destination – detention with Snape.

"Knock em' dead, Tamara." Jez hollered after her. Tamara waved at her friend over her shoulder.

When she entered the dungeon, Snape didn't even look up at her. He simply pointed to a pile of dirty cauldrons.

"Clean them. No magic. You will report to me when you are finished." Were his only words. He continued with his work. Reluctantly, Tamara made her way to the pile of cauldrons. _This lot is going to take me all night._ She groaned, inwardly. _He better give me an answer after all this._

Two hours later she was only a third of the way through the pile and after scrubbing a particularly difficult mound of grime from under the rim of a half-melted cauldron she threw her cloth down and sighed. At that moment, a tap on the door resounded through the room, and it creaked open. Tamara shook her head in exasperation when she saw Juliet saunter in. The look on her face was pure revenge. One hand on her hip, she tossed her long blonde hair back over her shoulders, and walked toward Snape's desk. Tamara couldn't watch. She knew it was the only way Juliet had to get at her, but she couldn't help but feel jealous. Juliet sat on the edge of Snape's desk and leaned over his work.

"Miss Malone, I am rather busy. Is there a reason that I have been _graced_ with your presence?" He asked her, his tone neutral.

"I wanted to ask you about the use of _aphrodisiacs_ in antidotes." She simpered, emphasising the subliminal message in her words.

"Aphrodisiacs are used as stimulants. Unless your intention is to have your patient running around relentlessly like a two year old, then good luck to you." He told her, without looking up. Not one to be defeated so easily, she persisted.

"But wouldn't it be useful in, say, waking a coma patient?" She went on.

"Really Miss Malone, if you wish to know about herbs, I suggest you talk to Madam Sprout. Now, if you please, I have work to do." He said, dismissing her. Juliet stood up, and headed around the back of his desk to leave. She paused momentarily, and let her hand rest on his shoulder.

"You should come with us to Hogsmeade, on the weekend. Join us for drinks" She told him. He looked up at her for the first time since she had entered the room.

"_You are dismissed_." He told her, pointedly, not bothering to respond to her invitation. Tamara smirked and turned her attention back to the cauldrons as Juliet left the room.

"For goodness sake, just use magic, or you'll be here for a week." He suddenly shot at her. One wave of her wand, and the cauldrons were sparkling, and placing themselves neatly in a row on one of the shelves at the back of the room. She stowed her wand back in her robes, and headed toward the door.

"Miss Edgecombe, a moment, please." She heard him ask. She stopped, and turned around. Waiting to hear what he had to say, her heart pounded in her chest.

"I have considered your request. Ordinarily I would have no compunction in saying no but I do recognise the _uniqueness _of your situation. I am willing to help you only as long as you take this seriously, and you put the effort in. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much…" She said, breathlessly. He raised his hand to silence her.

"My office. Saturday morning, 9:30. Do _not_ be late. You may go." Without a further word, he turned his attention back to his work, and she quietly left. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, a grin spread across her face, ear to ear, her heart in a flutter. Not only would she receive training from a master, but she would be able to spend extra time with the man she loved, not to mention being able to show him exactly what she was capable of. These devious thoughts were registered along with his warnings about seriousness, and she headed back to the Ravenclaw common room to share the good news with Jez and Thalia.


	9. Training

**AN: **__

_**I**_ **_finally finished editing chapter 9. Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to this. Been busy like you wouldn't believe. Got the next couple of chapters in the works, so you should see more updates within the next month or so. Also, it might pay to reread all the chapters. I've made a lot of changes to the content and writing style. Thanks to my reviewers for your interest and feedback. I've used much of your feedback in shaping the rewrite of these chapters, so I hope you like the changes I've made throughout the story. All the best and thank you to those who have stuck by me. All the best xx  
_**

**Chapter 9 - Training**

The Great Hall was filled with morning chatter. Glasses clinked, and forks chinked as the students of Hogwarts ate their breakfast and nattered happily amongst themselves. For most of them, the only troubling things were the usual dramas; romance, study, and that awful potions essay that Snape had set. Tamara and her friends were much the same in many ways, but for them the stakes were comparatively higher. The beating wings of a large flock of owls suddenly began to disturb the air, adding to the noise. Their beating wings almost sounded like the loud hum of a giant flock of bees, as the owls came ever nearer. Each bird carried something in its talons; letters, and some had parcels. The morning mail had arrived at Hogwarts. A large brown eagle owl sailed across the Hall and dropped a letter over Tamara's table, landing promptly in her plate of bacon and fried mushrooms. She extracted the letter from her breakfast and saw the name Elizabeth Landon written on the envelope in her own handwriting with "RETURN TO SENDER" stamped over the name in large red letters. She let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair.

"What's up?" Jez asked, glancing up at her from over her coffee. Tamara held the envelope up for her to see. A surprised expressed crossed Jez's face.

"I've never known owl post to fail before." Jez remarked.

"May I?" Thalia asked, reaching out for the envelope. Tamara passed the envelope to her. Thalia held it for a few moments, psychically pondering what it could all mean. Then it dawned on her.

"Elizabeth Landon doesn't exist." She told them, at last.

"But her name was on the family tree." Tamara whispered.

"I didn't say that the person doesn't exist. It's the name that doesn't exist." Thalia corrected.

"I'm not sure I follow." Tamara told her, confused.

"The name Landon doesn't seem to be associated with this woman, and while we know she's a muggle there seems to be magic involved here." Thalia explained.

"According to the records my Mother was the only witch in the family." Tamara reminded them. "Do you think it has something to do with her?"

"I would say so." Thalia agreed. "It seems to be some sort of charm intended to conceal Elizabeth's identity as a member of the family. She must have been the last one left and your mother must have been trying to protect her."

"Didn't Hermione say that she's a lawyer? Surely she's traceable somehow." Tamara pointed out. Thalia pondered for a moment.

"It seems to be a part of the charm. It leaves false trails." Thalia explained. "I remember studying about it for the O.W.L.s last year. Quite a clever charm really." At that, Tamara shook her head.

"Do you think Elizabeth knew about all this?" Jez asked, wide-eyed. Thalia took a moment to consider the letter's psychic energy, once more.

"I don't think so." Thalia told her, after a moment.

"This is really advanced magic, you know." Tamara interjected, frustrated. "How on earth are we going to find her?"

"You're forgetting our head start." Thalia reminded her, ever the voice of wisdom. "With my gift of sight I can help you, but at the end of the day it was _your_ mother who cast the charm. You're in a better position than anyone to understand how it works and find her."

Tamara nodded. Thalia was right. And as long as she was working toward strengthening herself any way she could, surely it was worth the effort. Stowing the letter safely in her robes, they went back to their breakfast.

Later that morning, Jez, Thalia, and Tamara could be found sitting at the back of the charms class room, and Hermione was able to inconspicuously join them, once more. After relating the latest news to Hermione, and after Tamara had once more expressed her frustration over the difficulty of the situation, they decided to indulge themselves in a silly game that they had played in charms at the beginning of term involving the use of banishing charms to pelt each other with cushions. It was fourth year stuff, really, but it was great fun and it helped Tamara relax in no time.

Eventually, they gave up using magic altogether and simply grabbed the cushions and tried to whack each other with them. Laughing hysterically, Tamara and Hermione tripped over a chair and landed in a giggling heap, Jez and Thalia doubled up with laughter as they watched. It wasn't until Tamara was propping herself up and catching her breath that she noticed that Flitwick wasn't the only member of staff in the room. Snape stood beside him, incredulously watching the chaos that was supposed to be the N.E.W.T. level charms class. Knowing how ridiculous she and her friends must have looked, Tamara couldn't help but nervously grin as Jez helped her to her feet. Straightening the chair she had tripped over, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Snape, in his typical fashion, began to approach.

"As unremitting as your schedule appears to be, could you spare me a moment?" He asked, hints of sarcasm lining his familiar silky voice. Considering her promise to take her training seriously, Tamara knew that she had just made a terrible impression on him. Managing only a short nod, he turned and swept out of the room. Tamara glanced back at her friends before following him. _Now for some damage control _her expression told them.

Out of the crowded and chaotic classroom, Snape let out a deep breath of air. Teacher though he was, he had never particularly favoured crowds, and he felt much more able to relax in the quiet of the corridor. He turned to watch her as she followed his lead and extracted herself from the noisy classroom. She looked breathless, and her eyes sparkled. It was a marvel; even with the knowledge and responsibility she now carried about her part in the war, she was still able to enjoy the simple pleasures with childlike innocence. It was a rare quality. He recalled his own student years, which had been filled with nothing but darkness. They were years he did not care to remember. Snape cursed himself. How was it that she was able to pierce his thoughts so keenly? And how on earth had he allowed himself to be convinced to do what we was about to do? It was all so conflicting. Simply hating them all seemed so much easier. So why were his usual defences failing against her?

Away from the others, Tamara noticed that Snape seemed to be different. For a moment he looked entirely relaxed, and something moved behind his eyes as he watched her approach that she had never seen before. But as usual, it didn't last for long and she tried not to frown. Leaning back against the corridor wall, she gave him her attention.

"Every year an International Potions Conference is held over the Christmas period, finishing on Christmas Eve with a closing ball. This year it is being held in London. Scholars who are invited to attend are permitted to bring a student who might benefit from the experience. Professor Dumbledore suggested you." At that, he took out a piece of parchment and handed it to her. Scanning it briefly, she saw that it was an information sheet about the conference, and that it included a consent form.

"If you choose to attend, you will send this form to your parents for their consent. As the Christmas holidays are mere weeks away, a swift reply would be appreciated." Snape hesitated. Lowering his voice, he added something that only she could hear. "If you are wise, you will realise that this will present unique opportunities for your coaching as well." Without further ado, he turned and swept away, but not before Tamara recognised a flash of the same look in his eyes that she had seen before. _You can change your expression, _she thought to herself, _but your eyes give you away..._

As Snape turned the corner, he breathed a sigh of relief. This task had been more difficult than he had expected. Even though he wore his usual mask of stone, she seemed to see right through it, and it was troubling. Suddenly exhausted, he decided to abandon the task of grading the essays that waited for him in his office, and followed a flight of stairs to one of the upper levels of the castle instead. It was an old route that he hadn't followed in many years.

Finally, he arrived in a corridor that lay claim to a single room and he pushed open the large heavy door, leaning against it with all his weight. When the gap was large enough he squeezed through, entering the darkened room with a sigh of relief, and leaving the door standing slightly ajar. He waved his wand at the nearest wall, knowing that a lamp hung there, and instantly the lamp sprang to life, casting its dim light over the familiar room.

In one corner stood a feature that he knew only by reputation. It was this that he had come to see. A large mirror, with the inscription "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" dominated the room. Snape did not regard it as a particularly attractive piece of décor, yet it had a sort of pull about it, and he found himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, staring into the world beyond the glass with a pang.

"I think I know what you see when you look into the Mirror, Severus." Came a voice from behind him. Snape turned to see the weathered, but comforting, face of Albus Dumbledore.

"But, you know; a man can simply close his eyes and dream of the things he desires, or he can open them and see that he lives his dream already. All you have to do is reach out and grasp it." He continued, a mischievous smile playing about his lips, and a twinkle in his eyes, that Snape knew all too well.

"Is that why you encouraged me to accept Tamara Edgecombe's training request, even though you knew the implications?" Snape asked him.

"Perhaps." The Head Master told him. "But there are in things in motion that are bigger than any one of us. Who am I to deny such promptings?" Dumbledore went on, cryptically. "In the end, it will not be training that she needs. She will know in her heart what she must do. But I think the experience will be good for her. It will be good for you both."

Snape turned away from the mirror and leant back against the wall, not saying a word, his eyes searching for some point in the room that would offer further explanation, his gaze eventually settling on the old man's inquisitive face. He let out a sigh of resignation. Dumbledore reached out his hand, and let it rest sympathetically on his protégé's shoulder.

"I know it's hard to think of letting someone get past your defences after all you've been through, but I think it's time, Severus." Dumbledore told him.

"I can't." He replied in barely more than a whisper.

"And, why not?" Dumbledore asked him, searchingly, but calmly.

Severus looked up at Dumbledore.

"Because of what I know my part in the war would have me do." He replied, fighting to steady his voice.

"If she truly loves you, she will understand. Trust that." Dumbledore told him.

"How can she, when the rest of the world will wish me dead?" The bitterness in Severus' voice was almost too much for the old man.

"You made your promise to me, Severus." Dumbledore told him, a hard edge to his voice now. "The world may not understand, but they will when it matters most, and I believe that she may be instrumental in that cause. Every second of every day is valuable, my friend. Make the most of every minute that is yours."

At that moment, the urge to fling himself into the old man's arms and be cradled in Dumbledore's grandfatherly embrace was almost overwhelming. But he didn't. He leant his head against the cold stone of the wall behind him, and closed his eyes in trepidation.

The Ravenclaw common room was warm and comfortable. Tamara sat in an armchair in front of the fire, sipping a warm mug of hot chocolate with Jez and Thalia. The permission form for the Potions Conference was being passed between them. Jez handed it back to Tamara, a curious expression adorning her face. Thalia looked on serenely.

"I'm going to get straight to the point." Tamara said, trying to head off the extraneous conversation she knew Jez would start. The truth was that the invitation had been worrying her. "Do you think it's wise to risk leaving Hogwarts considering the circumstances?" She asked them, her obvious concern lacing her voice.

"If Dumbledore recommended that you go then I don't see why not. And you'll be in the best possible care with Professor Snape. All other connotations aside, he really is a skilled wizard and the best candidate, besides Dumbledore, to keep you safe." Thalia told her.

Tamara took Thalia's hands in her own and looked her friend in the eye. "Tell me the truth Thalia. Will I be safe if I leave these walls?"

"I promise you will be safe." Thalia assured her. Tamara let out the breath of air that she had been holding, but she remained tense. "The question is, do you want to go?" Thalia went on.

"I'm desperate to go." Tamara told her, softly. "I'm just so scared that something bad will happen."

"I know, and I understand. Trust me when I say no harm will come to you. And trust Snape. You will be safe in his care." Thalia assured her. Finally, Tamara nodded and allowed herself a small smile.

"You better get that consent form sent off. It won't sign itself you know!" Jez interjected, breaking the tension with her humour. Tamara grinned.

Three days later, the sun rose bright and clear over a Saturday morning filled with anticipation and potential. This was to be the day of her first training session with Professor Snape. Despite the fact that Tamara would be spending who knew how much of her Saturday with her beloved, she was eager to learn. When the owl post arrived that morning at breakfast, a tawny owl dropped an envelope in front of her. Alison Edgecombe's familiar handwriting could be found on the envelope and Tamara tore away at it, excitedly. Inside was the returned consent form complete with her adopted mother's signature. She grinned. It really was going to happen! After a moment, Tamara's grin faltered. A note was attached.

_Have fun honey, and be careful.  
Enjoy your Christmas.  
Love Mum.  
xxxx_

"Love _Mum" _The words echoed in her thoughts. For the first time the terrible truth dawned on her that her Mother was not really her Mother. The knowledge wrenched at her heart, tears glistening in her eyes as her hands began to shake. She so badly wanted to tear her gaze away from the note, and yet she found that she couldn't. Jez wrapped her arm around her best friend, knowing instinctively what was wrong.

"Remember, this is _exactly_ what we're fighting for, okay?" Jez told her. Tamara nodded. "Stay strong. We're here for you."

Tamara wiped her tears away and smiled, returning Jez's comforting hug.

When the clock struck 9.20 am, Tamara took a deep breath and announced that she was leaving for the Potions dungeon for her lesson. She took out the returned letter that had been intended for her cousin Elizabeth and handed it to Thalia with instructions to start looking and promising to join them later. Her friends wished her luck and she stood up to leave, waving to Hermione as she headed out of the hall.

Five minutes later, Tamara found herself standing outside the dungeon. Nervously, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

"Enter" was called from within and she did so. Severus Snape was sitting at his desk, holding a quill poised above the parchment he had been writing on. He watched her as she entered the room, and she did her best to keep her skittish emotions in check. This wasn't going to be an easy lesson.

"You're early." He announced, a steely tone in his voice. Tamara blushed.

"I didn't want to be late."

"Your punctuality is admirable." He muttered, barely audible, but with just a hint of sarcasm. She ignored it, knowing him well enough by now. She realised that he was studying her, curiously, and it made her nervous. Casting a look at the dungeon to avoid his gaze, she realised that the room's benches had been moved to free up some floor space.

"Very well," He interrupted her musings, "you will require nothing more than yourself. You may deposit your belongings here until we are finished." He told her, gesturing towards his desk, which was the only piece of furniture still in its usual place.

Slowly, Tamara removed her robe from her shoulders so that she simply stood in a pair of jeans and an emerald coloured turtle-neck jumper, and nervously stepped forward to place her robe and bag beside Professor Snape's desk (her bag contained her Mother, Rosalyn's, book which she preferred to keep with her), and stepped back, awaiting his instruction.

Eyeing her once more, with an odd, almost tormented expression, which subsequently changed to that of irritation when he realised that she had noticed, Snape rose from his seat at the desk.

He shunted her toward the centre of the room, with seeming annoyance, and stood opposite her, facing her squarely.

"Prepare yourself, Miss Edgecombe. I am going to test your abilities. You may use any means of protection you can think of to defend yourself." He told her. Without waiting for her response, he raised his wand and had cast his spell before she had time to process what he had said.

A beam of silver light shot from his wand, but before it could hit her, the amulet Tamara had not taken off since the day Dumbledore had given it to her began to grow hot. All of a sudden, a burst of blue-white light exploded from it, filling the dungeon as it concentrated in front of her in the form of a shield. Professor Snape's spell hit the shield, forcing her backward and causing sparks to fly. After a moment Snape lowered his wand again, muttering "finite incantatem" to finish the spell. Tamara's shield retracted as he did so.

Tamara was shocked. She had never seen her amulet behave in such a way, before. But the Potions Master simply regarded her with curiosity. At last, he gathered himself, retrieving his usual mask of cool calculation, and she endeavoured to do the same.

"You seem to have an enormous well of untapped power. What you lack, evidently, is the ability to control it, and that makes you a liability. Your amulet appears to be a means of directing your power, but as you are currently unable to leash that power it responded recklessly when it was threatened. It is imperative that you learn to produce magic as a result of your controlled and directed will, so that is what we will work on." He explained. She swallowed and nodded, deciding to accept the wisdom of a much more experienced wizard and teacher, knowing that if she analysed what he had just said that it would only depress her.

"On this note, it is important that I make clear that any other problems you have will be left at the door when you come into this room. Do you understand?" He asked her. If he had been showing any kind of mixed emotions when she had arrived, all evidence had now disappeared.

"Yes sir." She told him, staring determinedly ahead.

"To be able to control your power, you need to control your emotions." He went on. "At the moment you're reacting to your emotions, especially when you feel threatened. I don't care how you do it, but I want you to learn to control those feelings that cloud your judgment. When you can do this your clarity of mind will enable you to truly accomplish what it is in your heart to do." He told her. She blinked. This was not how she had been expecting to finish a speech on controlling emotions, but nonetheless she didn't question him. In fact, it gave seemed to give her a much clearer understanding, and purpose, to what she was doing. With that in mind, she took some meditative breaths of air and prepared herself for what she knew she must do.

"Let us begin again." He instructed her. "We will continue with the same exercise. This time I want you to try to defend yourself against my spell using only your controlled and directed will. Concentrate on what you want to achieve. See it in your mind's eye. Want it. Now..."

With that, he raised his wand and once more cast a charm at her. At first, she did not know how she was going to go about repelling his spell, but after a moment a foggy image of the shield she had produced before sailed into her mind, and she seized on it. Evidently, it was too late. By the time the image was beginning to form in her mind, Professor Snape's spell had hit her and it knocked her off her feet.

"You're not trying. Concentrate. Again." He said. Trying to get her breath back, she pulled herself to her feet and faced him once more. Squaring up she took some deep breaths, summoning an image of the shield so that she would be ready this time. Once more, he cast his spell. This time Tamara did not lose her footing when it hit. For a moment she struggled to stand, but his spell was strong. After a time, she gave in, and the spell propelled her backwards.

"An improvement, but you are not focusing properly. You need to focus on achieving the outcome of safety rather than the means of pushing the spell away. Focus on that end goal. Again." He told her.

They continued with this exercise for a time, with Tamara having much the same luck as she did before. Eventually, exhausted and frustrated, she wanted nothing more than for the tiring lesson to be over, and it was exactly at that moment that she understood what Snape had meant. Sure enough his next spell hit a strong shield and after a moment it dissipated altogether, though it cost Tamara a great deal of energy.

"That is a good start, Miss Edgecombe, and you are quicker than most, but you have a long way to go, which means practising until you can do it effortlessly every time. We will end the lesson here for today. Between lessons, your task will be to practise this exercise. Your aim is to achieve consistency in your ability to defend yourself, and to minimise the energy that you are using. Exercises such as this certainly should not drain you of this much energy." He instructed. She nodded her agreement; all that she had the energy to do after the gruelling lesson.

"You are dismissed." He told her, with a wave of his hand.

Shakily, Tamara retrieved her things and took out the signed consent form for the potions conference, gingerly placing it on his desk before turning to leave.

Snape looked up in surprise as she placed the consent form on his desk, and watched her as she turned to leave the room. Before closing the door behind her, Tamara glanced back over her shoulder at him but he turned away at that very moment without saying a word. Alone once more, he read the form over and over, somehow not quite able to believe that she had actually agreed to forego her Christmas and come on this trip to London with him. Turning it over and over in his mind, he placed the form carefully in the desk drawer, and went back to his work in an effort to erase the lingering thoughts of his one-on-one lesson with Tamara Edgecombe.


	10. Yule, and the Potions Conference

**Author Note:** For some reason document manager won't save my scene breaks, so apologies if the flow seems funny in a couple of places.

**Chapter 10 - Yule, and the Potions Conference**

_~ So hither I come  
From my fairy home,  
And if there's a magic in music's strain,  
I swear by the breath  
Of that moonlight wreath  
Thy lover shall sigh at thy feet again ~  
- Thomas Moore_

The Christmas holidays began with the customary emptying of the castle. At least half of the students were returning to London on the Hogwarts Express to join their parents for the festive season, leaving more than enough students to attend the Hogwart's annual Yule Ball without claustrophobic over-crowding.

Tamara, Thalia and Jez took refuge in the warmth of the library, resolving to complete as much of their homework and revision as possible in the hours that the castle bustled with activity, as many of the students scurried about in an effort to be ready on time for the train, which was due to leave mid-morning. Hermione, like Harry Potter, had decided to spend Christmas with the Weasley family, leaving the three to spend the holidays by themselves. It wouldn't have taken much to persuade Adelaide to join them in their study session, but she had been asleep when they had left Ravenclaw Tower. Having been under such strain recently, Tamara hadn't the heart to wake her.

Tamara had almost finished an arduous Rune translation, when Thalia pushed her Divination essay away, throwing her quill onto the table and stretching theatrically. Tamara leaned over to peek at the essay and laughed.

"It must be so much fun proving Professor Trelawney wrong." She thought aloud. Thalia grinned, wickedly.

"I wasn't kidding when I said it was my favourite subject." She told Tamara. Tamara shook her head and finished the last line of her Rune translation before following Thalia's example and throwing her quill down onto the table.

"I'm exhausted!" Tamara exclaimed. "With so much going on at the moment, my emotions are higher than a kite."

"This advice may seem strange, but just stop for a moment." Thalia told her. Tamara looked up in confusion. "When things become too much, just stop, take some deep breaths and observe the power of the elements. The wind in the trees, the moon at night, the way the clouds roll across the sky, the golden light of the sun on a beautiful summers day. Taking a moment like that to collect yourself can be both empowering and rejuvenating."

Tamara and Jez exchanged puzzled glances. It seemed odd that such sentiments would come from their gothic friend, but then Thalia was as mysterious as they came. Thalia noticed the expressions her friends were sporting. "With the emotional chaos that comes with my gift, it's just a good way of helping me stay centred." She explained. To Tamara it made sense. Going for walks when she was stressed had always seemed to help calm her down, so perhaps Thalia's advice was not so strange after all. In fact, it seemed like a great idea.

"I think I'll take that advice, Thalia. I'm going to go for a walk in the grounds, and then I'll start packing." Tamara announced, and began shoving her books into her bag before she remembered that she could use magic. She tapped the remainder of the parchment and books with her wand and watched them fly into her bag of their own accord. Standing up, she slung the bag over her shoulder and headed out of the library.

A blast of cold air hit her full in the face as she yanked open the heavy oak front doors. _Damn, I should have worn something warmer,_ she thought to herself, pulling her robe more tightly about her as she slipped through the doors and pushed them shut behind her. Once outside, she took a moment to close her eyes and take a couple of deep breaths to relax herself, before trunching through the snow toward the lake.

She glanced at her surroundings, noting how the snow had fallen on the bare branches of the neighbouring trees, and how the grounds seemed to glisten, as though someone had carpeted the earth with diamonds. She smiled, remembering how she used to play in the snow as a child, and registered with surprise that Thalia seemed to be right about the natural element being a soothing one. But suddenly, she was not alone. She turned to see Thalia herself heading toward her, standing out in her black attire. She held out a thick and warm jacket, that Tamara recognized as her own.

"I thought you might need this." Thalia told her. Tamara smiled and pulled it on, gratefully.

"Do you really think I can do this?" Tamara asked, after a moment. "Fight in this war, I mean."

Thalia smiled. "Of course I do." She answered. "It's all part of the path that you are meant to walk."

"It's overwhelming, Thalia. Sometimes I can't help but think that this is all too big for me." Tamara confessed.

"I know it's scary, Tamara. I can hardly imagine what you must be going through. One thing I can say, though, is to play to your strengths. This is my strength," Thalia gestured to the majesty of their natural surroundings, "and I think we both know what your strength is." Thalia smiled, knowingly, and Tamara blushed slightly, but her resolve did not waver.

"Well, you know what they say about the power of love, and isn't that what distinguishes me from Voldemort?" She spoke up, her voice quiet but calm and knowing.

Thalia only smiled again, knowing that Tamara was at last beginning to discover her true identity, and that the strength that would result from this would be unparalleled. With that, she slipped her arm over her friend's shoulder, and they headed back to the castle together.

Later that afternoon Tamara's trunk sat open on her bed in the dormitory that she shared with Jez, and all of her belongings were scattered about the room. Jez sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through the pile of clothes that Tamara had thrown at her. The two girls sat in relative silence, punctuated here and there by the occasional outfit suggestion. Tamara marvelled at her friend's natural affinity for this work.

"Have you ever considered becoming a professional designer? She asked, conversationally.

"All the time. It's what I live for. My rich _daddy _doesn't think it's a worthy profession though. You know what he's like." Jez told her, making a face.

"Don't give up on it if it's what you truly want to do." Tamara advised her, squeezing her friend's hand encouragingly.

"Of course not. You taught me that." Jez smiled at her best friend, and silence fell over the room again as together they went back to sorting through the clothes.

Finally, the packing was almost finished. All that was left to take was Rosalyn Landon's small wooden chest of potions. It _was_ a Potions Conference after all. With that added, she drew her travel-bag shut.

"Just don't forget to let everyone know who your stylist is when you conquer you-know-who looking fabulous!" Jez joked.

"Absolutely!" Tamara laughed. "But you know you're going to have to get used to saying his name sooner or later." Tamara went on, her voice becoming more serious.

"I know. In my own time, alright." Jez told her, looking more uncomfortable than Tamara had ever seen. Tactfully, she changed the subject.

"Hey, you know what I have a craving for right now? Sticky-toffee pudding!"

Jez's eyes lit up at the mention of her favourite dessert.

"Race you to the Great Hall!"

The next morning dawned bright and crisp and Tamara woke to the sound of voices. She turned over, sleepily, and opened her eyes to see Thalia sitting cross-legged on Jez's bed. Jez stood examining her reflection in the full-length mirror.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" Jez announced, seeing Tamara rise from her bed, in the mirror. Tamara responded with her ritualistic morning groan.

"Alright, alright, I'm up." Tamara yawned. "I take it you've both worked out a schedule for me."

"Well, firstly, we found these in the library." Thalia began, tossing a couple of books onto Tamara's bed. "The first one might help you find Elizabeth. The second one is an ancient book of defensive magic, which I think could be useful. And then of course you have to do your morning exercises."

Tamara nodded, her anticipation heightening.

A short time later, Tamara sat in the common room, her eyes closed and her legs crossed. Thalia stood before her, guiding her through a meditation.

Drawing deep into herself, but at the same time managing to retain her awareness, Tamara called on the vestigial power that flowed through her veins, the way Snape had been teaching her in their training sessions. After a moment of focusing, and sinking into herself, she began to direct and shape the power that usually flowed directionlessly through her. All at once, a ball of blue/white energy emerged from her hands and floated in front of her. A moment later it took the shape of a swan, and began to sail about the room.

The utter control was amazing, but her awareness was not clouded by it. Her senses detected the utterances of Thalia's voice, and the soft thud of Jez's steps behind her. All at once, she could feel a rush of hot air as a bolt of energy shot towards her from behind. The swan disappeared immediately, and reappeared behind her, radiating its light to form a shield of sorts as it absorbed the attack. Tamara let the swan fade into nothingness and brought herself out of the meditation. She stood up, and grinned at Jez.

"Nice touch. Thanks." She told her friend.

"It was Thalia's idea. We wanted to test you." Jez replied.

"I must say, I'm very impressed with your alertness and speed." Thalia commented. Tamara smiled. Her improvement had made her feel proud of her heritage in the best sense. She only hoped that Snape would see her improvement just as favourably.

At that thought, a bell chimed… it was the alarm clock that Thalia had set on the mantelpiece. It sent shivers throughout Tamara's body.

"Is it time to go already?" She asked.

"Looks like it." Jez replied, holding Tamara's cloak out. "And remember, we want a full account when you get back!"

Tamara grinned. The long-awaited trip to London was finally upon her…

Severus Snape paced the entrance hall, impatiently, a battered black travelling case sitting neglected by his side. He paused long enough to lean against the wall and flex his fingers in mild irritation at how slowly the time was passing. A moment later, he pushed himself away from the wall, and resumed his pacing.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind him, and he paused, turning to look at who stood there. There she was; a vision in classic black, and denim. His breath stilled at the way her long hair fell softly over her shoulders and framed her face as she smiled easily at him. A moment later, and his trance had passed. He turned away from her and took up his travelling case.

"Come." He told her. "Let us not waste any more time dawdling." He resounded, in his unwavering cool voice. Any emotion he might have felt was not betrayed by his exterior in the slightest.

Tamara noticed Professor Snape immediately as she began to descend the stairs to the entrance hall. He paced impatiently, flexing his fingers in nervous irritation. She noticed his apparent reaction with mild curiosity. It was not the first time she had seen him react to her in this manner, so it did not surprise her to see it again. Though his agitation at seeing her seemed to increase every time they met.

When he turned to look at her, she smiled warmly at him, attempting to ease his agitation as much as she could. A smooth journey would, of course, make the whole experience much easier on both of them.

She wasn't surprised at the words he spoke to her, though. Aside from it being typical of his usual manner, which almost seemed to be a means of compensating for something, and he hid behind his usual cold exterior as a means to do so. But it was only theories. Tamara nodded and took up her travelling bag once more, continuing down the stairs and following him out of the hall.

Tamara settled herself on the plush seat in one of the train's many compartments. She glanced at Snape, who sat opposite her, wondering nervously whether or not to say anything to him. When he did not seem to show any interest in instigating a conversation, she turned away, pulling the defence book out of her bag.

It felt warm and comfortable in her hands, and as she opened the cover she felt the distinct sensation of power and wisdom as ancient as the earth, radiating from the worn and brittle pages. The words seemed poetic and beautiful. The words spoke to her, even though those words seemed to be Latin. A quick silent charm that she remembered from her Mother's book corrected that, and all of a sudden the words seemed to rearrange themselves and she found that she could understand them.

Tamara could sense that Snape was watching her, curious about the book she was reading, but for the first time that she could remember, she simply tuned him out, absorbed in the poetic wisdom in the book's pages.

At last he spoke, unable to contain himself any longer.

"Would you be so kind as to explain to me exactly why you are reading Latin? Surely you do not understand it." He shot at her, his voice positively icy. It did not faze her.

"It's an excellent book on defence. And yes, I understand it." She responded, simply.

"It's ancient." He pointed out.

"Wisdom grows with age." She retorted.

"It's outdated."

"Professor Dumbledore is ancient, but he is regarded as one of the most powerful, not to mention wisest, wizards of the age."

To that, Snape found no response. Instead, he did what he did best. He twisted her words to his advantage.

"Well, at least it explains something. It proves that your technique is ancient to say the least."

"I think I'll take that as a compliment." She told him, inwardly marvelling at the confidence she was feeling in conversing with him.

Her statement annoyed him, exceedingly, and more so because he knew she was right. That didn't stop him from lashing out at her, though.

"Be careful Tamara. Your presumptuous attitude could land you in trouble."

"Presumptuous? Do you really expect me to fall docilely into line with society's expectations, when I know the majority is wrong?"

"Don't misunderstand my words. I most certainly do not expect that of you, and strangely enough that is one of the things I admire most about you."

With that, he fell silent and turned to look out of the window in his sullenness. This left Tamara feeling more than a little puzzled, but the thought that maybe she had finally begun to break through his icy exterior was invigorating.

She closed her book, and placed it on the seat beside her. "What do I do now, Mother?" She silently asked. At once, the amulet began to feel hot against her throat. She almost laughed at the response, understanding its meaning perfectly.

"Professor." She addressed him, choosing to take a more formal tone. When he didn't respond she got up to sit beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. At last, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable. She was not deterred by it in the slightest, however. She stood her ground and out-stared him, as though she were facing a particularly stubborn hippogriff rather than the man before her.

"I want to show you something." She told him. With that, she took out her amulet and let it rest openly against the black material of the top she was wearing. Its presence was comforting, and to openly acknowledge it brought a strange peace of mind. She took hold of his hands and closed her eyes, drawing the power that would serve as the beginning of her charm.

He looked on, wide-eyed, at the magic she was creating. It was an incredibly personal charm and he had never had the privilege of seeing anyone create it, much less for his benefit. He looked back at her, hoping she could see, could understand, exactly what it was that she had just given him.

The entrance to the foyer of the hotel was masked by an old soft drink vending machine. A large tatty sign proclaiming "out of order" was plastered over the top of the old peeling paint-work. The witch or wizard desiring entry simply had to recite the password and walk through.

Snape spoke the password, _cauldron_, and pushed Tamara forward. Instead of crashing into it, as she expected, she fell right through it, and found herself in the large foyer of a luxurious hotel. She gazed in awe at the white marble that adorned the floor and walls, and at the fountain, which stood in the centre of the room. It spilled not water, but what appeared to be liquid gold.

"Do not be fooled. It is simply an enchantment, and a cheap one at best." Snape informed her, as he appeared at her side.

_Gee, what happened to appreciating the beauty of the simple things?_ Tamara wondered to herself. She shook her head and smiled, good-naturedly.

A house-elf hurried toward them and took their cases, lugging them with a great painstaking effort toward one of the hotel's three grand staircases. As Tamara watched the poor creature trying to pull the cases up the stairs, her sympathy outweighed her awe. She threw forward a silent "feather-light" spell, allowing the elf to have a comparatively easier journey.

She followed the elf up the stairs and down the corridors, sure that she would be bound to get lost if she had to navigate her own way through the hotel. She glanced at Snape a couple of times along the way, but his expression remained fixed and as unreadable as always.

Finally, the elf stopped by a door marked with the rune dagaz which accompanied an impressively long number. The elf put down the cases for a moment, and drew a large silver key out of his pocket. He reached up and placed the key in the lock, turned it, and heaved the door open before removing the key and handing it to Snape. The elf then proceeded to carry the cases into the room, and promptly disapparated.

Tamara followed Snape in and closed the door behind them, taking some time to observe the room before her. It was a large sitting room, with a plush couch to one side and a round dining table to the other. On one wall was a door leading to a gleaming bathroom, and along another wall were two more doors, both leading to bedrooms. The sheer magnitude of the place was stunning. On the table was a pile of leaflets advertising various aspects of London and the conference, and next to the leaflets sat a large volume, on the cover of which was embossed in gold-leaf "Rules, Regulations, Processes and Procedures of the Annual Academic Potions Conference." Tamara trailed her hand over the age-old cover, marvelling (if a little nervously) at the prominence of the conference.

But Snape's eyes were on her again and she lifted her gaze from the cover of the book. At length he spoke, his expression calculating.

"For the moment, preparation for the conference is secondary. This is a valuable time for another lesson. Come." He instructed. With that, he wordlessly guided her out of the room, leaving her no choice but to follow.

Several corridors and a flick of his wand later, Tamara found that she and Professor Snape were the sole occupants of a small dark room that seemed to adhere to Snape's tastes perfectly. Tamara, however, found the cold dampness uncomfortable and uninviting. Without a moment's hesitation, she took out her wand and conjured a series of lanterns along the stone walls of the room, which each sprang to life with fiery illumination. Satisfied, she stowed her wand in her jeans pocket.

"Take position." He uttered his usual instruction. She was ready. Taking her place in the centre of the room, she began to regulate her breathing. The power began to surge through her veins, searching for direction. She brought her vision back into focus, but seeing him standing before her, watching her as she prepared herself, and knowing that they were alone in London together… her heart skipped a beat and the power coursing through her body practically sizzled with electric radiance as it threatened to pour from her, uncontrollably, and she struggled to keep it reined in. She had always known that that the effect he had on her was like nothing else she had ever experienced, and the feeling was only getting stronger. She looked up to him, respected him, and loved him. She wanted to impress him, to earn his favour and affections, and that need was dancing inside her. That was why when he conjured a ball of electric energy and sent it toward her, with the instruction to repel and dispel it, the force field it encountered was so powerful that the ball of energy exploded with a bang upon impact, sending reams and shards of magic bouncing into all corners of the room. Tamara physically jumped in surprise at the suddenness of what had happened. He marched toward her.

"You need to control yourself." He hissed, impatiently. "Have you learnt nothing?"

Tamara blushed at being so close to him, but furious as to why she couldn't control herself when she had performed so valiantly earlier that very same day. She knew the reason for her fault, of course, but she could hardly explain it to him.

All of a sudden, a shard of the shattered magic flew behind her, and she leapt forward, her nerves skittish. This had the effect of knocking Snape backwards, and she instinctively grabbed hold of his arm. Looking up at him in sudden realisation of what she had just done, she found something in his eyes that she had never expected to see…

Unable to look away, she uttered the words to end the chaotic spell and instantly the renegade magic dissipated. That taken care of, she allowed herself to become lost in his gaze, which hadn't changed. Her heart began to beat, furiously.

He was close; so close. Closer than she could bear without allowing herself to lose control of her faculties and do the unthinkable. But surely he would stop her, or move away, if he didn't wish to be a party to the proceedings… Surely she could take a risk this once… After all, if she didn't take this risk while the perfect moment to do so had presented itself to her, then she might regret it. She studied the curve of his mouth, the fine line of his lips, in contemplation before drawing her eyes up to meet his, once more. Their eyes burned into each other, as she allowed gravity to pull them closer and closer together. She brought her mouth up, her lips brushing his, now. Her heart was pumping as though it had never felt the breath of life before… intoxication… she was falling, had already fallen… was ready to receive the sweetness of his kiss…

At first she dismissed the tugging on the hem of her robe, deeming it as nothing more important than the possibility that perhaps it had become caught somehow. When the tugging suddenly became more incessant and she heard a soft wheezing, she pulled back, yanking at the robe forcibly until it became free. After a moment she noticed a frail and elderly looking house elf staring up at her. The poor creature had been knocked to the ground when Tamara had yanked her robe from his grasp.

"Miss and Sir are required in the conference room now." The old elf gasped, struggling to pull itself back to its feet. Tamara sighed, and turned to look back at Snape, who had taken a step backward and was now wearing an inscrutable expression that she found both familiar and infuriating. She gave him a diplomatic nod and proceeded calmly from the room.

Tamara followed Snape into the conference room, her skin flushing, but she held her head high. A crowd of witches and wizards of all nationalities milled about, chattering to each other in various languages. A tired looking wizard with sunken eyes stepped up to them and handed them both name tags that stated their position and their school. Tamara took the tags from the wizard, who promptly shuffled away. Snape took his tag from her, taking great care not to touch her hand as he did so. Not giving her a chance to say anything, he turned toward their appointed seats, ushering her to follow him as he did so. She stayed close behind him, not wanting to get lost in the crowd, but it wasn't long before she was taking a seat beside him, awaiting the start of the conference.

Eventually, a pompous looking wizard stepped up to a lectern which stood at the forefront of the room, facing the audience, whose seats were arranged in a semicircle. The wizard, quickly performing the sonorus charm, called the room to order. The crowds of witches and wizards made their way to their seats. Almost ten minutes later, after an extraordinary amount of noise and kerfuffle, everyone was seated and the chatter was dying down.

The pompous looking wizard introduced himself and welcomed the crowd, launching into a tiring speech on the importance of potions in everyday life. Tamara found her attention slipping. It seemed so far removed from the beauty that Snape usually interjected into the subject. So far, the exciting international potions conference was proving to be a great disappointment.

After an inordinate amount of time had passed, with various witches and wizards having given long and tiresome speeches, Tamara was surprised to see Snape rise to his feet and proceed to take his place at the lecturn. Instantly, Tamara's attention peaked. Snape's presentation was as different from those of the other speakers as wizarding folk were from muggles. He spoke expressively, with the same finesse that had first garnered her love for the subject back in her first year at Hogwarts, even if his standards _were_ tough. She was glad to see that he still had the same approach to the subject, and she drank in every word.

After a time, Snape concluded his speech, nodding his thanks to the audience, and people began to mutter to each other again, shuffling from their seats. Tamara sprang to her feet, looking to see where Snape was. Her eyes found him waiting beside the door, and she headed toward him.

"Miss Edgecombe," he addressed. It seemed stiflingly formal. "I have some errands to attend to. You will need to occupy yourself until I return. If you decide to leave the hotel, you will confine yourself to Diagon Alley." Without further ado, he turned and disappeared from the room, leaving her to her own devices.

Snape's mention of Diagon Alley seemed like a good alternative to hanging around the hotel, so huddled against the chill wind, Tamara could be found sidling past the Alley's shop windows. She wandered in and out of some of them, deciding out of boredom, to buy whatever trinkets took her fancy, but finding none.

As she glanced, idly, over the shelves in one of the shops, something finally caught her eye. Entranced, she approached the display and gently ran her fingers over the glass casing. Resting on a velvet cushion at the front of the display was a bolline. But it was no ordinary knife. Its handle was carved from pure white marble, around which a snake wrought from silver had been curled. It was expensive, she could see, but fortunately not beyond her price range.

Minutes later, she walked out of the shop with the beautiful tool cradled in a cushioned box that was covered with silk and wrapped safely in brown paper. It would be perfect for cutting, slicing, and chopping potion ingredients.

Tamara returned to the hotel room and quietly closed the door behind her. Snape stood, gazing out of the window.

"You were gone for quite some time." He said, tonelessly, before she could take another step.

"You didn't say how long you were going to be, so I thought it was okay." She replied, with a shrug. He turned at this.

"Perhaps, but even so you shouldn't be reckless. I trust that you were in Diagon Alley as I asked?"

"Of course." She replied, indignantly.

"At least you had sense enough to follow my instructions, then." He told her, tersely. The conversation was starting to get tense. It was times like this that Tamara didn't think she would ever understand Snape.

After enduring another series of tedious lectures in the conference room that evening, Tamara decided to skip dinner and retreat to her bedroom. The whirlwind of that day's events had successfully robbed her of her appetite.

Huddled up in the bed sheets in the dark, thoughts sailed through her mind like clouds across a blue summer sky. Remembering the oddly tense conversation that she had shared with Snape, she realised that he had a point. She was in London, away from Hogwarts' protective walls, and Voldemort was on the loose. Snape's concerns were entirely justified. In fact, she remembered having the same misgivings herself when she had first been invited to the conference. She knew she needed to take better precautions, and stay where she would be safe.

The way the days passed was almost nonsensical to Tamara. The lectures dragged on and on, mindlessly, with the exception of Snape's inspirational lecture. Wishing that all of the lectures could have been like his, she made a mental note to work through the Potions homework he had set before the Christmas holiday, when she was free to return to the hotel room.

When the day of the closing ball dawned, she could hardly believe it. The morning passed by with a closing lecture, leaving the afternoon free for lunch, packing suitcases, and getting ready for the ball. Lunchtime saw Tamara sitting alone in the hotel's restaurant with a bowl of soup. She realised with a pang that she had only had one training session with Snape during the whole trip. She didn't regret what had happened in their training session on the first day of the conference, but the way things had turned out was regrettable.

"Damn elf." She muttered to herself.

But one thread of hope remained. The ball was due to take place that evening. Perhaps it would give her the chance to redeem herself. Perhaps…

She spent the rest of the day packing, as did most of the other conference attendees, but Snape seemed to have disappeared completely. She shrugged it off, trusting that he had more important things to do than baby-sit her all day, and she knew that he would never have left her alone in London if it wasn't safe to do so, or at least that he wouldn't be far.

Once her packing was finished, she took out her Potions books and curled up on the couch to begin her homework. An hour later, notes were spread over the couch and she was lost in the work that she loved. Snape's lecture on that first day had stayed with her, entrancing her mind, and now inspiring her interpretation of the essay question component of the Potions homework. Tamara felt so content that she even hummed to herself.

She didn't notice when Snape returned to the room. Tamara was engrossed in the work she was doing, and her humming revealed a sweet and melodious voice. Unable to help himself, he stood in the doorway for a time, simply listening to her. After a few moments, he finally allowed the door to swing shut, and it clicked into place with a slight bang, which announced his presence at the same time. She looked up in surprise. Snape said nothing, but simply gave her a courteous nod before retreating to his bedroom. Tamara shook her head and laughed softly to herself. She certainly could not understand his moods, but perhaps the trip wasn't such a failure after all. Things between them obviously weren't what they had been on the first day of the conference, but at least now it was amiable, and Tamara knew she would rather that than the tension of the previous few days. With that thought bouncing through her mind, she retreated to her own room with a skip and a smile.

Tamara spent the rest of her time preparing for the ball. A considerable amount of time was spent taking a bath that was laden with bubbles and soap. She splashed about, playfully, until no more time was hers to waste.

She stepped out of the bath, allowing her body to drip-dry as she towelled the moisture from her hair. She turned, noticing her reflection in the bathroom's floor-length mirror. In it she saw her natural unveiled self. 17 years old... how was it that she had grown up so fast? Could time really have flown by so quickly and laid so much upon her, without her realising? Unbidden, an image of Snape analysing himself in the same way as she was, sailed into her mind. She blushed. Almost as quickly as the image had appeared in her mind, she cast it away, turning from the mirror and wrapping the towel about her.

As dusk set in that evening, Severus Snape stood, waiting beside the fountain in the hotel's foyer. He had been exceedingly uncomfortable with the traditional dress robes, and so had exchanged them for a garment fashioned after a muggle "suit". This was still uncomfortable, and he had exchanged the white shirt for a black one, but at least it was an improvement. Truth be told, he had never expected to find himself waiting for something for an event like this. Unpractised when it came to socialising, he found himself wondering whether he'd be any good at it. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have cared for such things, but he hadn't enjoyed the tenseness of the last few days. He had long since accepted that her opinion was important to him, and given the last few days it seemed even more important now to give her a good impression.

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie of thoughts. He turned and there she was. Before him stood not the fiery and head-strong student who had managed to surprise him by beating Hermione Granger to the top of the potions class, but the image of a woman. And a beautiful one at that. She, too, had exchanged the dress robes for a more flattering garment. It was a black gown that she wore that highlighted her features perfectly, and her hair was pulled back, leaving her neck and shoulders enticingly exposed. No, he could not fathom the woman who stood before him.

Tamara raised an eyebrow and smiled, teasingly. Aware, then, of the expression his eyes and face must have betrayed, he stepped toward her and offered her his arm. She took it, her warmth spreading over him deliciously, as he led her into the grand ball room.

Tamara felt as though she had been transformed into someone else as she sat at the table. Snape was by her side, and an important-looking Norwegian wizard was questioning her in broken english on exactly what it was that had lured her to the field of potion-making. Snape, of course, said very little. She knew that he rarely favoured social events.

The fact remained, though, that the evening was unlike anything she had ever experienced. After dinner had adjourned, the soft sounds of the string accompaniment morphed into a variety of upbeat tunes, which most of the students spent the evening dancing to.

However, reluctantly, Tamara allowed herself to be pulled to her feet by a group of witches, also students, who had her join in the fun. She even found the heart to join in when an elderly German wizard with a terrible sense of humour insisted on teaching the group some German folk dances. She tossed her head back and laughed as she poorly attempted to imitate the moves.

When the music morphed into the Gaelic that was signatory of Ireland, Tamara managed to wrench herself from the grasp of the witches who had so ensnared her. She returned to the table where Snape sat, now alone. He glanced at her, curiously, as she took her seat beside him at the table. She waved her hand over the empty goblet before her, and instantly it filled itself with punch; a trick she had learnt from her Mother's book. She took a refreshing sip, and sighed with blissful relief. She was enjoying the night more than she had expected she would. However, the expression on Snape's face suggested that he felt otherwise.

"Are you okay?" She asked him. A non-committal noise in the back of his throat dictated his answer.

"You look as though you would rather be scrubbing bedpans in the hospital wing." She went on.

"What did you expect? This is not how I usually choose to spend my time." He snapped. Tamara raised an eyebrow in a Snapish-like manner, but really she had not expected him to react any differently.

"We'll have to change that, I think." She told him, mysteriously. At her word, the music morphed again. This time, a good old-fashioned ballad began to ring melodically through the hall. Almost automatically, witches and wizards alike began seeking dance partners. Tamara rose from her chair and offered her hand to Snape.

"Dance with me." She commanded. "This night is as much yours as it is mine."

He studied her, for a moment, hesitantly. Then, to her surprise, he took her hand and stood. Gathering herself as quickly as she could, she led him to the dance floor.

Once on the dance floor, she stood before him, her heart beating manically. Taking control before he could protest, though, she wrapped her arms about his neck, and drew him to her. It took a moment before he responded, but when he did it was to delicately lay his hands on her waist. She began to move, and he moved with her, but it began an awkward gangling mess instead of the slow-dance that everyone was undertaking. She leaned forward.

"Relax." She whispered. The tension she felt in his body did not relent, but after a moment he conceded a little and wrapped his arms about her, and their awkward gangling dance turned into a soft sway to the rhythm of the music. It was progress, perhaps, but it was still not comfortable. This did not deter her, however. He had lived behind his mask of stone for long enough.

She laid her head on his shoulder, moulding her chest against his. Another few moments was spent in this fashion, when all of a sudden, he broke away, his eyes smouldering in a startling gaze that reminded her faintly of the atmosphere that had surrounded the almost kiss that had taken place during the only training session that they'd had in London. The passion she saw in his eyes was intense, and she could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating in her chest. Taking her hand in his, Snape suddenly turned and led her from the room. Once in the safety of the corridor, he rested his hands on her hips and apparated them both back to the chambers they shared.

Alone now, and hardly able to believe that she was now being offered what she had been longing for, she snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her back with an almost unbearable passion; so much so that she stumbled backward and they both crashed against the wall. It felt so good. So _right_. She had been waiting for this for so long, and she decided not to waste a single moment of it, just in case it was a dream and that she might wake up.

She sighed against his mouth, and then leaned her head back in ecstasy, as he lowered his lips to her neck. After a moment, he pulled away again, gazing into her eyes as though he were seeking permission. She gave it wholeheartedly. Taking her hand, once more, he led the way into the bedroom that he occupied. Once the door was shut behind them, she disentangled her hand from his and lowered herself onto the bed, awaiting him.

He leaned forward over her, propping himself up on his elbows as he studied her face; beautifully flushed, her cheeks were tinged pink. His fingers brushed her jaw-line, and then her lips, before kissing her once more.

It was bliss. Everything she had longed for. Her eyes blazed as she gazed into his face, and she felt more in love than ever. She wondered, briefly, whether he really intended to go all the way. The idea made her nervous. She had never been that close to a man before, but secretly it was thrilling at the same time.

Severus leaned in to kiss her again, savouring the sweetness of her lips against his. But there was something else... unbidden, memories of an old conversation with Dumbledore rose in his mind; a conversation in which the Head Master had given him certain instructions. Snape could not escape what he knew he must soon do for the war and his heart pounded, painfully, with guilt. In his mind's eye, he could almost see the reaction that she would inevitably have when she eventually found out and the look of revulsion that he knew he would see on her face was heart-breaking. He couldn't do it. He couldn't do that to her.

He sat back on his knees, his head hanging in what appeared to be trepidation. Tamara's heart began to pound with worry.

"What's wrong?" She asked, as gently as she could. He didn't answer. The silence was thick with tension. "Severus?" At that he responded.

"Please, don't." He told her, a faint bite to his voice.

"I don't understand. What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" Madly, Tamara plucked reasons out of the air, trying to determine the problem. Worry was surging through her, now.

"Tamara, nothing _you_ could do would push me away. This falls on my head. I'm sorry, I just can't do this." The words seemed to tumble from his mouth.

"Is that all you're going to say?" She exclaimed, her heart shattering with every beat.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. The expression on her face was too much for him to bear, and the disappointment carved in her features pained him to no end. As carefully as he could, he extracted himself the bed, and quietly left the room.

Tamara didn't know what to do. Her breathing was erratic, and a lump choked in her throat. Curling up amongst the pillows and the duvet, she sobbed great wracking sobs until finally she had cried herself to sleep.

The next morning Tamara awoke with a strange emptiness within her, momentarily unsure of where she actually was. After a moment, she realised that she must have fallen asleep in Snape's room. So last night's events hadn't been horrible nightmare after all. It had really happened. Tamara's heart shattered a little more with that painful realisation. Today was Christmas day, and the day they were due to return to Hogwarts, she realised, but she couldn't erase the tormenting memories of the previous night that were still fresh on her mind. It was like a gaping wound that had refused to heal. It didn't feel like Christmas Day.

As she sat up in the bed, she realised that she was still wearing her dress from the ball. Sighing, she got up and opened the door, gingerly peering out into the sitting room to see whether he was there. The sitting room was empty. Stepping out, she headed back to her own bedroom. Promptly discarding the ball dress, Tamara stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash over her, and she scrubbed at her body as though she could scrub away her pain, though to no avail. At last, she stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a large fluffy towel about her body, using another to dry her hair.

She left the bathroom, and found that the sitting room was still undisturbed. Ignoring its emptiness, she returned to her chamber, where she proceeded to dress. She draped her travel robe over her shoulders, gathered her bag, and headed back into the sitting room. She scribbled a quick note on the hotel stationary, informing him that she had left for breakfast and that she would head to the train station from there. Secretly, she wasn't hungry in the slightest, in fact the thought of food made her feel slightly nauseous, but she was anxious for a good cup of tea. She left the note on the table, so that he would find it if he returned, and left the room with her bag in tow.

At 11 am, Tamara was seated on the train in her designated compartment, her bag resting on the seat beside her, and the train began to pull out of the station. He had not come. She could only assume that he was on the train somewhere, or making his own way back to the castle. She shook her head in confusion at all that had happened, trying to hold back the tears that began to sting again. How could she ever stand to return to potions classes? She couldn't bear the thought of seeing him almost everyday after what had happened. Maybe Dumbledore would give her private tuition... and maybe the sky would turn green. There was no way Dumbledore would exempt her from classes. She had as much chance at becoming best friends with Juliet. Resigned, she closed the thought from her mind and pulled one her books out of her bag so that she might lose herself in the world of fiction for a little while.

It was dark when the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade. She descended onto the platform, the only passenger to do so, and headed away from the station and into the carriage that awaited her. As soon as the door was closed behind her, the carriage sprang to life and carried her to the gates of Hogwarts.

Walking through the large front doors, she could hear jolly music floating toward her from the Great Hall. Of course. Hogwarts had hosted a ball, too, for Christmas. Tamara was somewhat thankful for this, as it meant that everybody would be attending, which meant that she would have the Ravenclaw common room to herself. She certainly wasn't in the mood to join another ball.

She climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw tower and breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to step through the portrait and into the sanctuary of the common room. It was dark, but she could hear someone, nonetheless. Adjusting her eyes to the darkness as best she could, she soon spotted Adelaide curled up on one of the armchairs, sobbing quietly to herself. That was all it took to set Tamara off again. Her bag slid from her hand and hit the floor with a soft thud, causing Adelaide to look up at her, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Tears began to spill down Tamara's own face, and before long, the two girls were curled up together, crying in each other's arms and pouring their hearts out through their tears.


	11. The Pyjama Party

**Author Note:** **Well, it's finally here! The new chapter! I'm so sorry it's been so long, I hope you forgive me, and I hope you all like this new addition to the story.**

**Also, it might pay to reread the original chapters if you're coming straight to this chapter after not having read the story for quite some time, as I've made some significant editing changes to the previous chapters that might have slightly changed the flow of the story a bit (though the story itself is essentially the same).  
**

**Many thanks to Elza and Giovane Sorella for their friendship, encouragement and interest over the years, and thanks to Lierin, AnnRiceAdmirer144, Igbogal, Command2Conquer, Rae Roberts, Flair for McNair and buggaboo1 for reviewing. To those of you who offered constructive criticism I took on your advice in the editing of the previous chapters so hopefully the story as a whole will be at a much better standard than it was before. Thanks also to Nianna for your interest.  
**

_**Chapter 11 - The Pyjama Party**_

_"Ring out the old, ring in the new,_

_Ring happy bells across the snow - _

_The year is going, let him go; _

_Ring out the false, Ring in the new."_

_- Tennyson_

It seemed for all the world that Tamara had spent her train journey back to Hogwarts alone, but Snape had not been derelict in his duties to keep her safe. Unbeknownst to her, he _had_ been on the train with her on the return journey to Hogwarts. He had watched her board unseen and had boarded himself after she was safely in her compartment. Minutes before arriving at the Hogsmeade station he had disapparated from the train and onto the platform where he watched from the shadows as she boarded the awaiting carriage and then he made his own way back to the castle on foot.

It had been a difficult journey for him, not in the sense of physical threats, but in emotional turmoil. Seeing her after what had happened the night before was difficult. He felt guilty, and confused, but also embarrassed. Suddenly he realized he hated the war, and he hated what he had to do for the cause. After the dark and lonely life he had led he had finally allowed himself to care for someone who brought a little light into his life. But the war had cost him that, and he hated it.

He recalled a conversation with Dumbledore. The old man had told him that she would understand, and even if he dared to hope that she might, and that there might be a second chance for him when all this was over, he knew in his heart that she didn't deserve that sort of life. Her part in the war put enough weight on her shoulders and no matter how he felt about her, he simply could not justify adding to that weight. So it was with a heavy heart that he made his way back to the castle and the cold and empty chambers that awaited him.

The morning after Christmas dawned crisp and clear. The sun rose over the turrets of the castle, glinting on the windows and the thin layer of snow that had crystallised on the roof, lying untouched over the vast castle grounds.

Tamara lay awake, staring into the shadows of the room she shared with Jez, long before her friend stirred. She dreaded it. She didn't want to face the questioning she knew she was coming, and she couldn't bear the thought of facing her friends' pitying looks.

When she sensed Jez stirring, she turned over and hid herself in the sheets, pretending to be asleep. A few minutes later, she heard Jez get up and leave the dormitory, unknowingly allowing Tamara the discretion she ached for.

Some hours later, Tamara woke again. She couldn't remember having fallen asleep again, but she felt better for it all the same. The time was now 10.15am. Was she ready to face the day? The question seemed redundant. She would have to face it whether she was ready for it or not.

After exchanging her pyjamas for more appropriate daytime attire, Tamara headed down the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. The room was almost empty as most students had gone home for Christmas. Amongst the students who were staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays were Adelaide, who sat huddled up on a beanbag with a book, a couple of second year students who Tamara did not recognize, and Thalia and Jez, who sat at the table playing a game of exploding snap.

At first the two girls didn't notice Tamara enter the room, leaving Tamara to stand near the bottom of the stairs feeling more than a little awkward. It was Adelaide who noticed her first.

"Good morning, Tamara. Merry Christmas." She called out, softly. The gaze that Tamara shared with Adelaide in that moment told her that her blonde friend wanted to ask how she was but that she didn't want to embarrass Tamara in front of the others. Tamara hoped that Adelaide could see her appreciation for this.

"Merry Christmas, Adelaide." Tamara responded. Hearing the exchange, Thalia and Jez looked up, both girls noticing the exhaustion in Tamara's face but not quite knowing what to say. Willing her stubborn feet to move, Tamara slowly headed towards the table where her friends were seated and sat down with them in the nearest chair, reaching for the deck of playing cards.

While Tamara occupied herself with the playing cards, Thalia shot Jez a quizzical look. She knew that Tamara carried a great deal of sadness, though she didn't know why. It occurred to her that even when Tamara had first told them about being invited to the conference something hadn't seemed right, though it had seemed important to let things happen without any interference, even if the details had escaped her, and so she had encouraged Tamara. Thalia idly let her hand brush Tamara's in the hope that some new image or information would be revealed to her to help her understand what had happened, but Tamara drew her hand back as though she had just been bitten by a venomous snake and the look that she sent Thalia was equally as poisonous.

"I know what you're trying to do." Tamara shot at her. "Why didn't you tell me that this would happen? You had to have known something wasn't right!"

"Tamara, I know you're hurting but please try to understand. My abilities don't always work the way I want them to. I don't know the details. I only knew that something was going to happen." Thalia pleaded.

"I don't understand why you couldn't have at least warned me!" Tamara said, her voice rising in frustration.

"Because some things happen for a reason. It was meant to set the wheels in motion. Please trust me on this." Thalia begged. Tamara hung her head, unable to understand or accept anything her mysterious gothic friend was telling her. Tears began to sting in her eyes, and all at once the room began to seem claustrophobic.

"I'm going for a walk." Tamara said, tiredly rubbing her temple. "I'll see you later." With that, Tamara set the cards back down on the table and headed out into the corridor that lay beyond Ravenclaw Tower.

She wandered about the castle for a time, her emotions bubbling within her and threatening to boil over. Trying to hold herself together was an inordinate task, made even more difficult when she bumped into Professor McGonagall. She looked up in shock to see McGonagall looking back down at her with concern.

"Is everything alright, Miss Edgecombe?" She asked in her lilting Scottish accent. It was a simple question, yet a powerful one. The caring in McGonagall's words was enough to send Tamara's emotions skittering out of control again. She burst into tears.

"Oh, my dear girl!" McGonagall exclaimed, and wrapped her arms around Tamara who simply buried her face in McGonagall's shoulder and cried. McGonagall didn't say a word. She simply allowed Tamara to cry for as long as she needed to.

Eventually, Tamara's tears began to slow. She took some deep gasping breaths and tried to gather herself.

"Why don't you come with me to my office? We can have a cup of tea and a chat." McGonagall offered. Rubbing her eyes, Tamara nodded and followed McGonagall.

McGonagall's office was warm and inviting, and a small but cheery fire crackled in the grate. McGonagall gestured to one of the chairs, which Tamara took. Sitting down, she watched as McGonagall tapped an empty tea kettle with her wand. In an instant, it was steaming and whistling, and McGonagall was pouring tea into two large mugs. Tamara took the mug McGonagall handed her and took a sip.

"Now, then." McGonagall said. "What has been upsetting you?"

Tamara wasn't sure what to say. It was all so complicated. "I don't know where to start." She choked.

"Did something happen at the conference?" McGonagall asked. Tamara squirmed. The whole situation was a private one. It seemed wrong to talk about it. And if the war was weighing her down, she didn't know whether she could talk about that either, not knowing how much she was at liberty to say.

"Sort of" was the only thing she could think of to say. McGonagall pursed her lips. After a moment more of questioning and receiving similar curt responses, it was clear that something had happened at the conference, and it was clear that Tamara was not prepared to talk about it, and for reasons she failed to understand. But there was another person she could ask... the man who had accompanied her to the said conference: Snape.

In the mean time, however, there was still Tamara. Changing the topic, she asked Tamara the usual questions; how her studies were going, how her friends were, and that sort of thing, and they simply talked for a time. When the conversation neared its end, Tamara thanked McGonagall and politely excused herself and left, and McGonagall followed, though heading in a different direction; down, to where the dark corridors led toward the dungeons.

Stopping outside a familiar door, she knocked loudly and a familiar voice answered. "Enter!" Snape called. McGonagall marched in.

"Severus, what on earth happened to Tamara Edgecombe at that conference?" She demanded. A look of surprise crossed his face at her sudden entry and her intrusive question.

"Minerva, calm yourself and explain your meaning." He told her, coldly.

"I just had Miss Edgecombe in tears in my office, shattered over something that obviously happened at the conference that _you_ took her to. What did you do?" McGonagall was angry. A student was hurt and upset, and the only apparent reason was an event supervised by a Hogwarts teacher. She had to know why.

McGonagall's words stung, forcing him to mentally face again what had happened between Tamara and himself. Outwardly retaining his usual expressionless countenance, however, he coolly replied.

"Minerva, I have no idea what you mean."

"Don't give me that! What happened to her?" McGonagall wouldn't give up.

"Isn't it enough that times are stressful as it is with the Dark Lord at large? And if she does not wish to discuss the things that burden her, then surely that is her prerogative." He said, using reason to mask his turmoil.

"You really are the most infuriating man I have ever met!" She shot at him. "She is a gifted student who you seem to hold in high regard, and yet your manner and your actions are completely at odds with that. Why you can't learn to treat your students with a little more respect, I will never know." With that, McGonagall stormed out of the office, leaving Snape to brood over her words.

To think that Tamara was in the kind of devastated state that McGonagall had indicated was heart-wrenching. He had made a difficult decision to try and lessen the weight that was on her shoulders, but it seemed that he had only added to the burdens that she had to carry. The thought that he had not only ruined his one chance to become a part of her life, but that he had irreparably hurt her as well, was almost too much to bear. The advice that Dumbledore had given him prior to the conference returned to haunt him. This is what the old man had meant, and Snape knew that he had made a terrible mistake.

Later that day, Tamara, Jez, Thalia and Adelaide could be found in the Great Hall, sitting together at one of the few tables that had been left set up for the students who were remaining at Hogwarts for Christmas. Tamara stirred a cup of tea, absently, while her friends busied themselves with Christmas snacks. Thalia, Jez and Tamara had arrived at a truce of sorts. Tamara still hadn't been able to tell them the specifics of what had happened, but she had consented to generalise and her friends had accepted this. At present, they chattering idly, not noticing when Professor Dumbledore entered the hall and approached them.

"Merry Christmas." He told them, a characteristic glint in his eye. The girls looked up in surprise and smiled back at him. Somehow, Dumbledore always managed to make things feel better if you were feeling down, and he certainly had this effect now.

"How are you all?" He asked, taking a seat beside Adelaide. Tamara sighed.

"We're okay. It would be good if something funny happened for a change, though, like everybody turning up to class in their pyjama's or something." She said, making a half-hearted attempt at a joke. At her words, however, a sudden mischievous expression appeared on the wizened old Professor's face. "Sir, what are you thinking?" She asked, suddenly worried.

"You know, you've just given me an idea." He told them. At his words, the girls exchanged quizzical looks. "Regrettably, I am only passing through, so I must bid you farewell. Do enjoy your day." Offering them a courteous nod, he left them to their own devices, and to ponder his words.

The Christmas break wound on and things remained quiet at Hogwarts. The four friends enjoyed the solitude, even though the lack of bustling activity in the castle made the atmosphere seem strangely flat. Adelaide often took advantage of the empty library and more often than not could be found there studying. Tamara admired the younger girl's dedication, but she couldn't help but worry. Adelaide's face constantly looked sunken and worn. She rarely turned up for meal times and Tamara suspected that she wasn't getting enough sleep either. When Tamara confronted her about it, however, her pleas always fell on deaf ears. Not knowing quite what to do, she made a mental note to ask Madam Pomfrey for advice if Adelaide began to look worse.

The week after Christmas, however, wound on without incident. As there were no classes, there was little reason for Tamara to have to face Snape, except at meal times at which point she staunchly ignored him, and before long, the New Year was upon them. Tamara and her friends watched the fireworks from the astronomy tower, marvelling at the colours and shapes. Together, with their arms around one another, they made their new year's resolutions; to always remain friends, to get their N.E.W.T.s, and to survive the war. That moment seemed to have a wondrous magic about it and Tamara felt it touch at the very core of her being. It was the first time all week that she had been able to feel anything except grief, or numbness once the grief had passed over. Tamara relished the moment, glad that in the midst of her pain, the stress of school work, and the horrors of the war, that she could still feel uplifted by the world's magic. It was a feeling that remained with her long into the night, and it comforted her until she fell asleep.

The first day of classes after the holidays proved to be an interesting one. Luckily, Monday was one of the few days that they didn't have a scheduled Potions class, so Tamara felt able to ease back into a normal schedule in her own time. She joined her friends at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast, and was immediately targeted by Hermione, who came bounding over and sat with them. A couple of the other Ravenclaw's raised their eyebrows at being joined by a Gryffindor, but Hermione ignored them.

"How was the Potions Conference?" She asked, excitedly. Though she hadn't been privy to the conversation shared by Tamara, Jez and Thalia in the Ravenclaw common room prior to the Christmas holidays, they had always filled her in on everything when they had classes together. Tamara pondered Hermione's question, wondering what the most diplomatic way was to answer it.

"Well, let's just say that it was an education." She said finally. At exact moment she and Jez glanced at each other, both knowing the incredible awkwardness that had been the only result of her trip to London. Hermione was confused. "Actually, the lectures were pretty boring, but from an academic point of view, I learnt a lot about all the different ways to approach potion making." Tamara went on.

"And what about Snape?" Hermione pressed on, lowering her voice.

Tamara sighed. "As I said, it was an education. His lecture was interesting though."

Hermione was clever enough to notice that Tamara was trying to change the subject, and she could guess why.

"I'm sorry if things didn't work out, Tamara. Are you okay?" She asked, trying to console her friend.

"I'm not sure how I am, Hermione. Too much has happened this year. It's all getting to be a bit much." Tamara lamented. Hermione put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, but at that moment the conversation was cut off by Dumbledore, who stood up at the high table to make an announcement. Within a few moments, the Great Hall was silent and students and teachers alike were giving him their attention.

"I trust you all had a joyous Christmas," he began. "In light of recent events, I thought that perhaps a little light-hearted humour is long overdue. Tomorrow I welcome you all to attend your classes wearing your pyjamas." At that, some students laughed and others merely looked at him incredulously, which was nothing compared to the looks that some of the teachers were wearing. Tamara shook her head, embarrassed, and Jez threw a piece of toast at her.

"What on earth does he think he's doing?" Tamara exclaimed in whispered voice. "I was only joking! Oh for goodness sake, we have double potions tomorrow after lunch, as well!"

Jez couldn't help but laugh at Tamara's mock theatrical annoyance. Tamara quickly explained to Hermione the conversation they'd had with Dumbledore the day after Christmas, and Hermione immediately joined in Jez's laughter.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. It was easy enough to lose herself in her lessons, but the battle to maintain her concentration was a battle that she was losing. The closer it came to the end of the day, the closer it came to facing potions class... and in her pyjamas no less. Tamara couldn't help but feel nervous.

But as hard as she willed it not to, tomorrow dawned anyway, and before long they were all lined up outside the first class of the day, Herbology, clad in their pyjamas. When Neville Longbottom arrived with a teddy bear in tow, however, it sent Tamara into peals of laughter. This would certainly be an interesting day. It felt surprisingly comfortable and freeing, tending to the plants in the green house wearing her warm flannelette pyjamas, and by the time everyone had become used to the idea that they were wearing their bed clothes in public, the atmosphere began to lighten, and many of the students spent their time laughing at the many varieties of pyjama patterns and colours that others wore, and how silly some of the teachers looked. Professor Sprout, for example, had even turned up to class with rollers in her hair at which point Jez, in fits of laughter, accidentally cut the stalk of the plant she was attending to, resulting in even more laughter from her friends, much to the confusion of the aforementioned professor.

After Herbology, they had a single charms period, which Professor Flitwick attended in large fluffy bunny rabbit slippers that changed colour whenever he walked, and at lunch Professor Dumbledore could be seen socialising with students wearing a lurid lavender bathrobe that was adorned with meowing kittens. Tamara suspected that he had worn this particular outfit on purpose, but Dumbledore looked priceless nonetheless, so by the time they reached the potions dungeon after lunch, and joined the queue of students that had begun to shuffle into the dungeon, they were in such high spirits that Tamara hardly registered where they were there.

"I wish Dumbledore would do this more often," Jez commented, elated. Tamara nodded her agreement.

"I know. It turned out to be a good idea after all. I don't think I've had this much fun for ages."

They were nearing the door now, and Tamara couldn't help but throw a glance at Snape, which turned out to be a bad idea because it sent nerves shooting through her stomach all over again. Snape, for the record, was simply wearing his usual day attire, so most students had acclimatised to the dark dungeon atmosphere within a few moments. Jez, however, had no compunction in continuing the conversation as they sidled past the Potions Master into the room.

"Absolutely!" She agreed with Tamara. "I haven't laughed so much since Uncle Albert caught his beard in the food mixer!"

That comment sent Tamara into fresh peals of laughter, which Thalia joined as she followed them to their usual bench. Hermione managed to position herself at the bench next to them, with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter joining her, so Hermione was able to join in their conversation.

After everyone had settled, however, and Snape had begun the lesson, Tamara found the atmosphere almost unbearable. She tried her best to concentrate but failed miserably, making several terrible mistakes which rendered her potion almost unpassable. Tamara could have sworn that her heart broke a little more with every time she heard Snape's voice sail effortlessly over the general noise of the student's potion making efforts, and every time she noticed him when she turned to retrieve the next ingredient for her potion. At one moment, she came crashing into Harry and promptly sent a bowl of newt eyes flying onto the floor. It was all that Tamara could do to keep from crying. This was turning out to be a first class nightmare. Harry looked at her with confusion, knowing it was extremely rare for Tamara to perform so badly in potions. Unexpectedly, he shot a venomous look at Snape and Tamara turned to Hermione for explanation. Hermione was bowing her head in embarrassment. Evidentally, she had told her two Gryffindor friends a certain amount of information about Tamara. For the moment, however, Tamara didn't care. All she wanted at present was for the lesson to be over.

Snape hadn't missed Tamara's accident and the subsequent look Harry Potter had given him. He sighed, inwardly. He had done his best to maintain a cool professional exterior, which all things considered hadn't been too difficult when he busied himself with the activities of the class. That wasn't to say that he, too, found it extremely awkward to spend so much time in Tamara's presence. It was hard to know exactly what to do. McGonagall, it seemed, had not been exaggerating when she had explained the state that Tamara had been in. Guilt niggled at him again, incessantly, tormenting him for the mistake he had made. Perhaps he shouldn't have let things go so far between them at all at the conference. Perhaps he could have avoided hurting her so much. But god he had felt so strongly. He had fought it the entire time they were there, and eventually he had risked giving in to it. Now he paid the price.

Eventually, the class came to a close. Somehow, Tamara had managed to salvage her potion and bottled something halfway usable, which Jez took up to Snape's desk for assessment, along with her own and Thalia's. Tamara didn't waste time cleaning her potion making tools as thoroughly as she usually did. She rushed everything back into its place, grabbed her bag and headed straight for the door, leaving the others to finish without her. Once in the corridor, however, a hand came to rest on her shoulder. She froze, too afraid of who it might be to turn around. It was not Snape's voice that addressed her, though. It was Harry. Somewhat relieved, she slowly turned to face him.

"I'll let Hermione fill you in, but if he's done something to hurt you..." his words trailed off. Tamara understood what he meant, though it was hard to know how to respond.

"Perhaps it was a mistake going to the potions conference at Christmas. I think it was a bit beyond me." She said, the only explanation she could manage. Harry considered her words for a moment.

"Why don't you take a complaint to Dumbledore? I'll go with you if you like." He encouraged her. She shook her head.

"Thanks Harry, but its okay. It's something I have to deal with by myself." Tamara said.

"Well... if you're sure." He told her, clearly not liking it.

"Honestly, I'll be okay." She told him, though she was unsure who she was trying to reassure more; him or herself. She forced a wan smile before turning to leave.

Tamara found herself in the library. She wondered, vaguely, whether it might be worth going to Dumbledore and begging for an exemption from potions class in favour of private lessons with himself, but something inside her told her that she needed to persevere, and so she cast the thought out of her mind.

She took a seat at a table that was sheltered in the library's far corner and took her books out of her bag. The one that sat on top of the pile was one of the books that that Thalia had given her before Christmas, suggesting that it might help her to find Elizabeth. Ashamed, she suddenly realised that she hadn't even looked at this book once. Perhaps it was time now. Opening the cover, she saw it was an advanced compendium of charms and magic that were generally intended to conceal things. Trying to work out this way what charm her Mother had cast was going to take forever. She sighed. Nothing seemed to be going right. But at exactly that moment Thalia, Jez and Hermione appeared.

"Tamara, for the record I didn't really tell Harry much. There were things that he just sort of guessed for himself, so I sort of had to explain." Hermione began. Tamara threw up a hand to hush her.

"It's okay." She said. "Harry is the least of my worries, anyway." She paused. "Though, I do appreciate his concern. I hope you'll tell him that for me."

"Of course." Hermione assured her.

"For now, we have a task." Tamara went on. "We still need to find my cousin Elizabeth."

"We had a go at seeing what we could find out while you were in London," Thalia began, "but there were no leads in the library. I couldn't even get a psychic hit from the letter. At least no more than I got before. This is really strong magic." With that she took the aforementioned letter out of her pocket and gave it back to Tamara.

"Well, we have the book you gave me," Tamara said, "but that's going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need a different approach."

Not to be deterred, however, Hermione reached for the book in question and began to flip through the pages. If anyone could find a lead, it would be her. It took her all of a few single moments to come up with something. After glancing back through a couple of sections in the book to be sure, she excitedly turned to Tamara.

"I presume you still have the things Dumbledore gave you that belonged to your Mother." Hermione checked. Tamara nodded, instantly pulling out the amulet. Hermione's face lit up. A second later, Tamara realised that she had another source of information; the book of magic that her Mother had written for her. Taking it out from the pile of books that she had placed on the table, she passed it to Hermione.

"Do you think this might help?" She asked, the question rhetorical. Hermione grinned and instantly began devouring the information that the book had to offer.

Jez laughed. "You had that all along and we didn't even think about it!"

After another few moments of searching, Hermione put the book down. "Okay, it looks like the sort of charm that draws on an entire family line to protect a particular member of that same family. It seems to be designed so that only another family member can find the protected individual, and you'd need a direct connection with the family member who cast the charm. If it was your Mother who cast the charm, and you have her amulet, then you should be able to find Elizabeth." Hermione explained.

"Excellent!" Tamara exclaimed. "So how do I go about doing that?"

Hermione gave a slight grimace. "I'm not really sure. The information isn't specific."

Trying not to feel too discouraged, Tamara took off her amulet and held it in her hand along with the letter. Silently she begged her Mother, Rosalyn, to tell her where to find her cousin. Times were unimaginably hard, and she needed her family because right now her only link to her true heritage was Elizabeth, and she needed that link. All at once, an image of a young pretty woman in her mid 20s floated before Tamara's eyes. Tamara couldn't help but notice that the woman looked a little like herself. It was Elizabeth. All at once, Tamara understood exactly what to do.

Explaining to her friends what had happened, she began to pack away her things and headed straight for the owlery and once there she selected a reliable looking barn owl. Holding her amulet in her hand, she concentrated on the image of Elizabeth that had appeared to her. The amulet began to glow. After a moment, the glow began to take on its own form and moved to encapsulate the letter before disappearing entirely. Tamara knew that the effect of this would mean that no matter what happened, the owl would be able to deliver the bewitched letter without detection or interference, and knowing exactly where to go. She released the owl as soon as she had tied the letter to its leg, and with a satisfied smile she watched as it winged its way toward the horizon.

**Author Note: Jez's line about Uncle Albert is actually a quote from the English comedy "Only Fools and Horses". It's one of my favourite shows and I wanted to pay tribute to it a little. Also, the pyjama day theme was based on something my high school used to do (back when I was in high school years ago). Once a year, they would have a day when everyone would come to school in their pyjamas to raise money for charity. Back when I was planning this chapter I remembered that and it seemed like an interesting scene to include. Anyway, happy reading and I will be starting work on the next chapter very soon!**


	12. Revelations

**Author Note:**** I couldn't stop writing, so here's the next chapter! This is the first time I have ever shown this chapter or chapter 11 anywhere, so any feedback anyone might have would be really helpful :) Happy reading!**

**Also just noticed that I forgot to mention Acathla9 in my list of acknowledgements in chapter 11. So sorry about that! Your review was really helpful and encouraging. Thank you so much for reading!  
**

**Chapter 12 – Revelations**

"_All love renders wise in its degree;_

_from love which blends with love_

_Heart answering heart, _

_to that which spends itself_

_In silent mad idolatry of some_

_Pre-eminent mortal, some great soul of souls,_

_Which ne-er will know how well it is adored._

_Love is never blind, but rather_

_Alive to every the minutest spot_

_That mars its object, __and which hates _

_(supposed s__o vigilant and searching) _

_dreams not of"_

_- Robert Browning_

Just over a month had passed, now, since the fateful London Potions Conference. The time that had passed had been tense and almost mechanical for Tamara, but she had done her best to keep her emotions intact. Dumbledore, however, was worried about her. Underneath her cool exterior, he knew she was still hurting very much. This was not how things were supposed to have turned out. Inwardly, he felt guilty for not having been more present through what had inevitably been the most difficult time in her life to date. For Severus Snape, he had been equally as concerned. He had always known what Tamara would come to mean to Snape, perhaps even before the other man had come to realise it for himself. It had taken a lot of coaxing to encourage Snape to begin to trust her, but when it had come to the moment of truth it had all gone suddenly wrong. Dumbledore had no way of knowing what had happened between them, of course. Only they knew that. But he feared the damage that it had done and that was why he had asked Tamara to stay back after the N.E.W.T. student's _Defence Against the Dark Arts _class.

Tamara waited patiently until all the students had filtered out of the room, telling her friends that she would join them shortly. When the class contained only herself and Professor Dumbledore, he gestured to her to follow him and she obliged. He stopped at the end of the corridor, and took her into the office that was usually designated for the _Defence Against the Dark Arts _teacher. Dumbledore hadn't required the use of it since he already occupied the Head Master's office, but for now it would be perfectly suitable for his needs. He opened the door and she followed him inside.

"Tamara, take a seat," he gestured. She did so, but she was nervous about what he could possibly have to say, considering that during their last meeting she had discovered that she was adopted and would one day have to face Voldemort. "How are you?" He asked, gently.

"I'm fine, sir." She told him, somewhat surprised. She chose that response because somehow it seemed easier simply to say that than explain how she was really feeling.

"Really?" He commented, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "It's been just over a month since Professor Snape took you to the International Potions Conference, am I right?"

"I suppose so," she answered, still not wanting to give too much away.

"How did you find it?" He pressed on.

This conversation was beginning to feel more than a little awkward. "I'm not sure I understand where you're coming from, sir." She commented, taking the plunge, preferring simply to know what he wanted than to endure this overemphasised politeness.

"Very well," he conceded, "I'm worried about you. Professor McGonagall came to see me after Christmas and informed me that something had upset you a great deal. She said that you seemed reluctant to discuss it, so I thought I would allow you to work through it in your own way. A month on, however, and your manner suggests that there is still a great deal of deep-seated grief. I'm concerned."

She sighed, irritated that McGonagall had told Dumbledore. "The conference just wasn't what I expected, that's all. I think I overestimated my abilities by putting myself in the deep end like that." She was covering, and the way he looked at her told her that she wasn't going to get away with it.

"I think it's more than that, isn't it." He told her. He paused, waiting to see if she would volunteer her feelings. When she didn't, he pressed on. "Does it have to do with Professor Snape?" He asked, tentatively. That got her attention. She hadn't been expecting him to be so direct.

"Yes," she said in a tiny voice, somehow unable to escape Dumbledore's questions the way she had with McGonagall. "But it wasn't like he was mean to me, though."

He considered her words for a moment. "I'm sure you understand that some people are not particularly social, or find it difficult to open up to others, perhaps owing to a troubled past."

"I understand that sir," she answered, confused.

"Don't give up on him just yet." He told her. "I think that there is more to tell in this story, yet." This seemed like a strange thing to say. "Would you like some tea?" He asked, suddenly changing the subject. Tamara nodded. The way Dumbledore was approaching the conversation was strange to say the least, so it seemed better simply to agree with him and find out where this was all going than to try to fathom it. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore conjured a steaming tea pot.

"I believe the last time we met we discussed your heritage and your birthright." He stated as he poured them both cups of tea. "I know that discovering something of that magnitude cannot have been easy."

"Sometimes I think it's just too big for me. I have no idea how to even feel about meeting Voldemort. I don't know how I'd even survive let alone hurt him. Are you sure you don't have the wrong person? I mean, surely there are more experienced witches and wizards who would be better equipped to face him than I am." She told him, the weight on her shoulders had been feeling heavier by the day.

"They may have experience and knowledge, Tamara, but you have something that they lack. Sometimes knowledge clouds the vision of the heart. You are young, and your heart is strong. That is what makes you different. When the time comes, you will understand." Dumbledore explained. His words seemed powerful and magnetic, filled with an age old wisdom that made it hard not to believe him. His words didn't make the burden any easier to carry, of course, but they did tell her not to give up. Keep trusting, no matter what.

"Valentine's Day is nearing us once again." Dumbledore commented, absently or perhaps not so absently changing the subject again. He reached for the sugar, helping himself to three spoonfuls and adding them to his tea. "It is a day to acknowledge our connections with each other, and tell our loved ones what they mean to us. Given the dark times of late, it is an especially important day. I have been looking forward to it." His comments seemed innocent enough, but the twinkle in his eye told her that there was more to his words than met the eye.

When the time came for her to rejoin her friends, the cryptic conversation replayed in her mind, over and over. She couldn't help but feel that he had been trying to tell her something, to give her advice. So what on earth had he meant?

She found her friends, occupied in the library. Their books and homework were spread across two tables. Hermione seemed thoughtful, and Thalia was scouring the bookshelves, but Jez was staring at Adelaide, who was in a mad flurry to complete the work that she was engrossed in. Tamara sat down beside Jez.

"Is everything okay?" She asked. Jez broke her gaze and turned toward Tamara.

"Does Adelaide worry you at all?" Jez whispered. Tamara frowned.

"I have to admit, I was concerned about her at Christmas." Tamara confessed. "Do you think we should go to Madame Pomfrey?"

"I don't think so. Not yet, anyway." Jez answered. "I wouldn't like it, if I were in her shoes."

Tamara nodded her agreement. "What do you think we should do? Talking to her doesn't seem to help."

"I don't know." Jez replied. "She's worse than Hermione, isn't she? It's disturbing." Hermione looked up at the mention of her name, so they shuffled their chairs toward her to include her in the conversation.

"So what happened with Dumbledore?" Jez asked, considering there was nothing that they could do now but change the conversation.

"It was strange." Tamara commented, proceeding to tell them about the cryptic things that Dumbledore had said.

Over the next couple of weeks, Dumbledore's comments remained something of a mystery to Tamara, and Adelaide was becoming so tired and stressed that dispute her usual good nature she had now become snappish and irritable. Consumed with worry for her friend, and confusion over her conversation with Dumbledore, Tamara was left with little time to worry about anything else.

By the time the sun rose on Valentine's Day, Tamara panicked. From Dumbledore's words, it seemed that she was supposed to accomplish something important today with respect to her relationship with Snape. But what? And how?

The day was a Wednesday. Lurid pink confetti, and singing cherubs, could be found everywhere. Dumbledore could be found wearing the traditional shades of pink and red, though many of the teachers were loath to do the same. The atmosphere, Tamara had to confess, was quite disgusting. Why did people feel the need to be so lovey dovey and adorn themselves in the most horrible colours? Surely there were easier ways of communicating with your beloved without making yourself look like a complete and utter twit. Nonetheless, Tamara had no choice but to endure the "festivities" for the whole day, and it wasn't until the end of Potions, which was the last class of the day that she realised exactly what to do. She knew she didn't need singing cherubs or to coat her homework with pink love hearts to sort out her situation with Snape. She would simply talk to him. Good old fashioned honesty always seemed to go a long way. Bottling a sample of that lesson's potion, she packed her things away and made her way to the front of the class. It was the first time since Christmas that she would even have uttered a word to him, and she was incredibly nervous. She told her friends that she would meet them later and headed towards the front of the room, and Snape's desk.

"May I have a word?" She asked, quietly, placing her potion sample carefully on his desk for marking. He looked surprised, but to avoid making a scene he simply nodded. Her heart jumped to her throat. Inwardly, she had been hoping that he would say no and make it easier for her. But that was not to be. Fate, it seemed, was determined for her to have this conversation.

When the room was finally empty, and contained only herself and Professor Snape, she took a deep breath and began. This was not going to be easy.

"This is really hard for me," she began, "and the last couple of months have been unbearable. I really need to know what happened." There, it was out. Snape looked supremely uncomfortable. Evidently, this was going to be just as difficult for him as it was for her. Like her, he knew that this conversation couldn't be put off any longer, so he didn't try to avoid it.

Snape stayed silent for a long time, struggling to think of how to explain. Eventually, he took a deep breath and looked her in the face, holding her gaze with his. "Tamara," he began, choosing to address her by her first name considering the personal nature of the conversation, "it was for your own safety. Believe me, it was an incredibly difficult decision to make."

It was not a response she had expected, nor did she understand. "I can handle myself, if that's what you're getting at." She said, indignantly.

"That is not what I mean, at all. There is a lot that you don't know about me. Things in my past I'm not proud of, and things that I have to do for the war."

"You're not making sense." Tamara told him, frustrated, and Snape looked equally dispirited. It was difficult to explain without telling her things that would put her in danger... _and that would make her hate him._

"What I have to do for the war is going to change things, Tamara. I couldn't give you the life you deserve." Snape struggled with the words. He detested such personal conversations, much less confessing these things to Tamara.

"Perhaps you should let me decide what I want and what I deserve." She told him, resolutely. He looked surprised.

"You don't understand." He went on.

"So help me to understand! Please talk to me, Severus." She pleaded, hoping that the use of his first name would have an impact.

"This isn't a good idea." He told her, turning away.

"For goodness sake, don't I deserve more than this?" She implored. He turned to gaze at her again. After a moment, he stepped towards her, taking her hands in his.

"You won't like it."

"Is it so hard to trust me? I have my own part to play in this war, you know. I found out things this year that turned my entire life upside down; things that mean I will end up facing _him_. So why don't you do me a favour and trust me to understand." She told him, not giving up.

"Alright." He gave in, taking a deep breath. "But I will understand if you think less of me for it." She shook her head, indicating that she wouldn't, so he began. "My younger days were very troubling. I had no love or support from my family, and no friends to speak of. School was an utter nightmare. My days were filled with nothing but misery and loneliness. The only people I ever found any acceptance with were a select group of Slytherin students who went on to become Death Eaters. I was very taken with them and considering they were the only people who had ever made me feel welcome, I naturally did as they did. I, too, became a Death Eater." He paused, searching her face to find the disgust that should have been etched there. There was surprise in her eyes, but disgust there was none. Perhaps she _would_ understand. He went on. "I soon discovered that the world of the dark arts demanded much more than I had bargained for. The things that the Dark Lord had us do... I just couldn't take part. So I fled to Dumbledore begging for his help. I discovered that one cannot simply give up being a Death Eater. That is not how the Dark Lord operates. Dumbledore's solution was to have me act as a spy for him, which I have been doing ever since."

"Wow," was all Tamara could say, but she did not let go of his hands. "So did you think that I could be in danger from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters by being associated with you?" She asked, trying not to dwell on what he obviously wasn't proud of. Pressing on with the conversation, she held his hands even tighter in hers.

"Perhaps, but if that were all then my concern would be significantly lesser. I have been given a terrible task that must soon be fulfilled. It will change everything for both of us." He was surprised that she hadn't shown any horror at the predicament his past had put him in, but he was relieved at the same time.

"Do you mean to say that my part in all this will take me away from Hogwarts next year? That I won't be returning for my seventh year?" She asked, her heart pounding. This was terrifying stuff.

"It is entirely possible. I couldn't say how things will eventually turn out, but you must at least be prepared for all eventualities. Harry Potter will soon be arriving at similar revelations, which is why I tell you this. It is important that you are both ready."

"I understand but look, we both have difficult parts to play for the war, don't we, so surely we'll be stronger together." She reasoned.

He sighed and placed his hands on her hips. Swiftly, he lifted her up off the ground and sat her on the edge of one of the benches, leaving his hands to rest on her waist. She felt warm in his grasp. It felt good to hold her again. "I was not exaggerating when I said that the task I have been given was a terrible one. When all is said and done, people will not understand. Nothing will be the same."

"And you think that I'll feel the same way as them; that I'll hate you for it." She said, voicing what he had obviously been feeling. He said nothing, but his expression told all. "You really need to start trusting me." She told him, fiercely.

"Even if you did understand, there would always be other people's opinions. I couldn't put you through all that, and that's why I pulled away from you that night at the Potions Conference."

At last she understood. His gesture was even quite touching. But the war angered her. "I hate all this. The war has taken so much from me and put me in the worst danger. I'm not going to let it take _this _from me, too." She said, referring to her relationship with him.

Her words were enticing. He wanted so much to believe her, to trust that when everything came to a head that she would still feel that way. But she did not know what it was he had to do, and he didn't have it in him to tell her. If he gave her his heart and she turned to look at him with revulsion when his task was complete... that would mean an intolerable pain. But if she _could_ understand... he didn't want to make the same mistake twice. Why did these things have to be so hard?

"Beginning a relationship while you are still my student is perhaps not ideal," he began, her face looked etched with protest. He went on, before she could say anything. "I suggest that we wait until my task is complete, and then it will be your choice as to whether you still want this."

Tamara gave him a smile. He had offered her an incredible compromise, and one that had her best interests at heart. She couldn't help but be touched, even if it meant waiting for the fruition of her heart's desire. If he could only tell her what his task was, then perhaps it might make things easier, but he seemed to know what she was thinking.

"I can't tell you what my task is, Tamara. There are certain details that would put you in terrible danger. You asked me to trust you, and I must ask you the same thing. Please trust that this is all for the best, and that what I must do is entirely necessary for the cause." This was the biggest risk for him. He had to hope... his heart was counting on her.

"I understand, Severus." She told him, softly. She reached up, gently caressing his cheek. He smiled back at her, enjoying her touch. It was at exactly that moment, however, that Jez burst into the room. Jez was out of breath and looked panicked. She didn't process the fact that her best friend was in a compromising position with Snape. The present situation had to come first.

"I'm really sorry, Tamara," she started, breathlessly, "Adelaide's lost it. You've got to come, quick."

"Oh my God." Tamara whispered. It seemed that they had neglected their friend for far too long. "I knew we should have said something to Madame Pomfrey." She chided herself. Leaping from the bench, and out of the comfort of Snape's arms, she grabbed her bag and ran after Jez.

Jez led her to the library, but Tamara had half expected that, considering that Adelaide had been consumed with her studies lately. When they arrived, Tamara was shocked. Books and pieces of parchment were strewn everywhere, and half the shelves had been emptied of their contents. Madame Pince came rushing at them.

"I'm so glad you're here." The librarian told them. "She's gone mad."

Adelaide was plain to see... and hear. She was shouting loudly at Thalia and some terrified first years. Tamara rushed at them.

"Adelaide, sweety, what's wrong?" She asked, as gently as she could manage. Adelaide turned her fury towards her. "I try so hard, Tamara, and I'm still not good enough! Look at them... all the couples who are _so _in love. No-one's ever interested in someone like me! I work so hard and it's never good enough! No-one ever wants a girl who's scarred!"

"Oh sweetheart, you're a beautiful young woman and I'm sure there are plenty of people who are interested in you. We just need to get you away from those books for a while." Tamara tried to ease Adelaide's feelings.

"How can I be beautiful? Look at me!" With that, Adelaide tore at her blouse and the buttons ripped, revealing terrible burn scars all over her body. Tamara gasped.

"Oh my goodness, what happened?" The question fell out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"They tried to kill me!" Adelaide started screaming. "They tried to burn me alive! They don't want me and I'll never be good enough because they disfigured me!" Tears were streaming down the poor girl's face. Tamara rushed towards her and wrapped her arms around her. Adelaide pulled away. "Don't!" She cried. "Don't come near me! I'll mar you too!"

Tamara dropped her arms in shock, not knowing what to do. Snape, who had apparently followed them to the library, moved forwards to stand beside her.

"Miss Roebeck, let us help you." He implored her, in the kind of soft voice that usually made Tamara feel weak at the knees.

"Can you get rid of my scars? Can you make me better?" Adelaide, replied, her tone a little softer now, though lacking none of its tension.

"We can help you." He repeated, choosing his words carefully. Adelaide still looked like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of a car, but this time she allowed Tamara to approach. Tamara took off her cloak and gently laid it over her friend's shoulders. Little by little, Adelaide allowed Tamara to lead her out of the library, with Snape following close behind. Snape paused for a moment, addressing Jez.

"Miss McKenzie, please alert Professor Dumbledore and your Head of House, then you may join us in the Hospital Wing." He told her, in a low voice. She nodded and promptly dashed out of the library in search of Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw, and Professor Dumbledore.

Thalia followed Snape and Tamara as they escorted Adelaide slowly towards the hospital wing. Thalia had taken it hard, wracked with guilt that despite her psychic abilities she had not been able to see this coming, and she had not been able to do anything to help her poor friend. Tears rolled down her face, leaving terrible black streaks to mar her pale porcelain face.

Once in the hospital wing, Tamara left Snape to explain to Madame Pomfrey what had happened while she led her friend toward one of the beds. Adelaide followed Tamara quietly, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Don't leave me, Tamara." Adelaide whimpered.

"I'm right here." Tamara told her, taking a seat beside her and wrapping her arms around her. This time, Adelaide didn't pull away.

Madame Pomfrey, satisfied with Snape's explanation of what had happened, disappeared into her office and reappeared with a steaming mug of something, which she offered to Adelaide. "Have a cup of tea, dear. It will help you feel better." Adelaide looked dubious, but she accepted the cup. From the look on Madame Pomfrey's face, Tamara knew that it was anything but tea. Sure enough, Adelaide had soon fallen fast asleep in Tamara's arms. It had been a sedative. She helped Madame Pomfrey to lay Adelaide down on the bed, and tucked her in. Tamara wanted to stay by her sleeping friend's side, but Snape called her away. Dumbledore, Flitwick and Jez had arrived, now, and were waiting for them. Tamara turned to Thalia. Thalia's tears had not eased.

"It's all my fault." Thalia whispered. "I should have seen it. I should have known."

"It's not your fault, Thalia." Tamara reassured her friend, tears rolling down her own cheeks. "We all should have paid more attention to her."

Taking hold of Thalia's hand, the two girls walked toward the others together. Dumbledore ushered them outside. Before anything was said, Tamara, Jez and Thalia hugged each other tightly, all of them fighting varying degrees of tears. When they finally let go of each other, Tamara turned to Dumbledore.

"What happened to her, Professor?" She asked. "Who tried to burn her like that?"

"Apparently, when she was young her parents locked her in her bedroom and tried to burn the house down. They have been serving prison sentences for it since. Your friend was lucky to survive." Dumbledore told them. The three girls looked at each other in horror. Poor Adelaide. And they'd had no idea of the trauma she had been carrying.

"What's going to happen to her?" Jez asked, her voice faltering.

"She will be taken to St. Mungo's hospital." Madame Pomfrey told them.

"Is that really necessary?" Tamara asked. "We're her friends. Surely we can help her."

"I'm afraid it is necessary. We can't provide the kind of care she needs. She will be in good hands, I promise."

Tamara had no choice but to agree but that night, however, the three friends remained inseparable. Not even Snape could come between them, and he was desperate to comfort Tamara and make sure she was okay. That night, the three girls sat huddled together in the Ravenclaw common room. They didn't say a word but they stayed together, before the fire, until they fell asleep.


	13. The Dark Days Begin

**Author Note: Hi everyone. I just want to thank everyone for their continued interest in this story, by putting it on author alert lists and favourite lists. ****Thanks also to Wendy Waddles for your kind review! I was online when it came through so I thought I might mention it here before I head off back to my thesis work again. It's amazing to me that**** people are still reading this and still interested, so thankyou all so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next one after this will be posted friday next week. **

**I have to say though, I reread some of the earlier chapters... perhaps a mistake... I think they're a bit _too _oc maybe. Oh well, no matter. I was a lot younger when I started this story, but now most of the set up is done I'm getting more to the interesting parts of the story. Perhaps in an alternate universe I would have handled the story differently, but I do love it the way it is at the same time, so perhaps it was meant to turn out this way. Anyway, more interesting twists and turns ahead, so happy reading!**

_**Chapter 13 – The Dark Days Begin**_

_~ I know where the wingéd visions dwell_

_That around the night-bed play;_

_I know each herb and floweret's bell,_

_Where they hide their wings by day. ~_

_- Thomas Moore_

The days that passed were bittersweet. Against all the odds, Tamara'd had a minor relationship victory, but she had lost a friend and in her heart she couldn't help but feel that the dark days were creeping ever closer. She had not told her friends the contents of her conversation with Snape. While she had been able to give them a general picture of what had happened at the Potions Conference, this conversation had seemed much more private, and much more serious. With the chaos of Adelaide's breakdown at exactly the moment it had happened, though, her friends hadn't really asked too many questions, which Tamara took as a blessing. Outwardly, everything seemed as though it was back to normal. Tamara and her friends were their usual selves and lessons went on as they always had, but something was missing. Though they hadn't shared any classes, Adelaide was gone, and her absence left a gaping wound in their hearts. Tamara couldn't understand why everything had to carry on after such a terrible ordeal had taken place, but it did nonetheless.

The opportunities to talk with Snape had been scarce since their conversation and Adelaide's subsequent breakdown. Tamara wanted to honour the compromise that they had reached and simply be a good student until the end of the year, though it took all her strength to do so. She knew it pained him just as much, but it had been _his _suggestion and he tried to honour it just as she did. One of the few times that they broke their silence came a month to the day of Adelaide's breakdown. At the end of Potions class that day, Tamara looked particularly tired and took decidedly longer than usual to clear her things away, since she had opted to clean her tools by hand rather than use magic. The truth was that it was all taking its toll on her, and she had been having nightmares to boot. As a result, she was simply tired and she didn't want to use magic any more than was necessary. He grabbed her hand as she headed toward his desk, and the door, asking her how she was. Tiredly, she told him about the nightmares, but insisted that she would be okay. He didn't believe her. She insisted, not trusting herself to be alone with him without them breaking their promise to each other to wait. He frowned, but pressed a small bottle of dreamless sleep potion into her hand, making her promise to use it to get at least one night's decent sleep and telling her that she would feel better for it. She gave his hand a squeeze and managed a small smile before leaving to catch up with her friends.

That night she lay awake in her bed, long after Jez had fallen asleep. She turned the potion vial over and over in her hand, letting her thoughts sift through her mind and wander aimlessly of their own accord. Eventually, she placed the potion on her beside table and turned over, wrapping herself tightly in the covers as though they could protect her from all the demons that had been invading her thoughts of late. When she eventually succumbed to sleep it was only to see more torturous images of Voldemort and all the things she feared. Over the next few days Tamara fell asleep in class no less than three times, and her grades began to drop. McGonagall, who had been worried about Tamara before, was now beside herself. At the end of one particularly difficult Transfiguration lesson, she pulled Tamara aside and asked her if there was anything she could do to help. Tamara shook her head and apologised for her behaviour. Ordinarily, McGonagall would have offered her some extra credit assignments so that she could have an opportunity to make up her grades, but Tamara looked as though she were on the brink of exhaustion as it was and McGonagall didn't have the heart to give her any extra work to worry about. Tamara promised to improve her grades and left the room, deciding that perhaps it would be a good idea to take Snape's potion after all. She decided that she would take it on Friday night, and have a good sleep-in the next day when she didn't have to worry about being up in time for classes.

When Friday night came, she sat on the edge of her bed with the potion in hand. She wanted so much to be falling asleep in Snape's arms instead. She was sure it would be much easier to sleep in the safety of his embrace. But it was not to be. At least not yet. Tonight the potion would have to do. She swallowed the funny coloured liquid in one big gulp. It tasted foul and she shuddered in disgust. It did the trick, though, and she was soon fast asleep.

When she awoke the next day she felt all the more refreshed for having had a night's undisturbed sleep, and she sincerely hoped that it would be the catalyst that would stop her nightmares. Considering the battle with Voldemort was creeping ever closer, though, she doubted that she would be afforded that luxury.

As it was a Saturday, she decided to leave her assignments for a while and took a long overdue trip to Hogsmeade. After wandering in and out of the shops, aimlessly, for a while, she finally settled for the Hogs Head pub. Vaguely she wished her birthday would hurry up so that she would be allowed to order firewhiskey, but for now butterbeer would have to do. Huddled in one of the booths, butterbeer in hand, she occupied herself simply with reading the newspaper. Between the latest quidditch scores and the scandal of the week there was little of interest, but nonetheless it occupied her mind for a while.

"Miss Edgecombe," a silky voice announced itself. Tamara looked up in surprise to see Professor Snape. Her heart sank a little to hear him address her so formally, but inside she knew it was necessary.

"Good day, Sir." She greeted.

"May I join you? The other seats all appear to be rather full." It was his excuse to join her, though the Hogs Head _was _rather full anyway.

"Of course." She told him, and he slid elegantly into the seat opposite her.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this." She said, teasingly, in a low voice. He didn't find it funny.

"Please, Tamara, you know we have to be careful." He said, in an equally low but serious voice.

"Oh for goodness sake, I was only joking." She replied, not sure whether to be offended or not. But this was Snape, and she knew what he was like, so she flashed him a good natured smile. He shook his head. _Women, _he thought to himself, but secretly he enjoyed the attention.

"How are you, Tamara? Have you been sleeping any better?" He asked, turning to a more civil topic of conversation.

Tamara sighed. "The only decent night I got this week was last night with the potion you gave me. Honestly, I think I'm going mad. I feel like I have to look over my shoulder the whole time. I'm scared, Severus. I wish this whole thing were over."

"I know." He said, sympathetically, wishing he could do something to ease her burden. The truth was, though, that he felt exactly the same way. What he would eventually have to do scared him to no end, and took all of his strength not to show it. For now, however, he found solace in her company, either in simply having her in his classes, or in the conversation they were sharing now. He wished they could enjoy more conversations like this. The ease and normality of it was refreshing indeed and he relished the present moment. After all, who knew how many more opportunities there would be to simply enjoy her company on a normal Saturday morning. Even if she still wanted to know him after it had all happened, who knew what life would be like then?

As the following week began, it brought with it something that had been completely unexpected. At breakfast one morning, the owl post delivered Tamara a letter. In itself this was not unusual, but Tamara didn't recognise the handwriting. When she opened it, however, she knew immediately who the sender was and she felt as though her heart had quite literally stopped beating in her chest at the realisation.

"It's from Elizabeth!" She exclaimed. Thalia and Jez looked up in surprise. So Tamara really had been able to break through the charm, and Tamara looked more surprised by that revelation than either of the others.

Tamara read the letter over and over, hardly able to believe it. Elizabeth remembered her aunt Rosalyn, Tamara's mother, very fondly indeed, though she had not known that Rosalyn had a daughter, which of course had been Rosalyn's intention. Elizabeth seemed excited to hear from her long lost cousin and was eager to talk with Tamara more, and get to know her. For Tamara this felt like a supreme victory. Hearing from her last surviving blood relative made her feel a connection and a strength that she hadn't felt for a long time. Was she ready to face Voldemort as a result? She didn't think she'd ever be ready for that, but the letter gave her a new found confidence and it spurred her on. That night, Tamara slept without nightmares for the first time since she had taken the dreamless sleep potion.

That night, however, it was Thalia's turn to be plagued by a loss of sleep. The headache she'd had over the last few days had been nothing more than a dull ache... until now. Now it was throbbing painfully, and with it came a nauseating feeling of dread. All of a sudden, the headache began to sear and she clutched at her head, grimacing. Her visions sometimes felt like this, but she couldn't remember it ever feeling this bad. She staggered from the bed, her stomach churning, to reach for a glass of water. She took a shaky sip before the glass fell from her hand and smashed on the floor and Thalia, promptly, fell to her knees. The room began to swim before her eyes before disappearing entirely.

The scene that emerged was horrifying. A group of hooded figures surrounded a snake-faced man. One of the figures was knelt before the man who had the terrible reptilian face. They were discussing a plan, though some of the details remained hard to make out. She heard phrases such as "the boy is unlikely to succeed. You are ready to complete the task should he fail, I trust?" and "when Dumbledore has been silenced we will make our move". Then another conversation emerged. "We will succeed." The snake-faced man, said. "They will never be able to stop me. My horcruxes will see to that." All of a sudden, the scene disappeared and the snake-faced man rushed at her, hissing horribly. "Thank you for showing me your mind, my dear." The terrifying man told her. "It will be most useful." And then the vision was gone, and the dormitory had reappeared once more. Thalia retched, sweat slicking her hair to her face. Trembling, she unceremoniously vomited.

After a time, she staggered out of the room and towards the one that Tamara shared with Jez. Leaning over Tamara's bed, she tried to awaken her friend.

"Tamara, wake up!" She cried, shaking the sleeping girl until she began to stir. Tamara rubbed at her eyes, groggily.

"Wassup?" Tamara asked, sleepily.

"I had a vision. We're in danger and we've got to go to Dumbledore right now." Thalia told her, urgency pervading her shaky voice. Jez was stirring too, now, wondering what all the commotion was about. "Come on, girls, we've got to go _now!"_ She turned to Jez, now, trying desperately to motivate her friends.

As soon as they were all up and dressed in their robes, they fled the Ravenclaw tower armed with nothing but their wands and Tamara had Elizabeth's letter stowed in her pocket from the previous morning, along with her Mother's amulet as per usual.

Tamara couldn't think, let alone breathe, as they ran through the corridors. Thalia explained her vision along the way. The time was upon them at last, it seemed. Tamara hadn't expected it to happen so suddenly, though, and she was terrified. What terrified her more, however, was the thought that she might have to face it alone, and that she wouldn't get a chance to see Snape again, despite all that they had promised each other. No; nothing could have prepared her for this.

Dumbledore, evidently, had heard them as they approached, and emerged from the section of wall not far from the gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to his office.

"Sir, its happening." Tamara burst out. "Thalia had a vision. We're all in danger."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Come into my office." He told them. Tapping the gargoyle statue with his wand, it suddenly sprang to life and jumped aside to reveal a spiral staircase. Dumbledore, still clad in his pyjama's and a dressing gown, led them up the stairs and into his office. No-one bothered to sit down and Thalia began to explain what she had seen.

"I've never felt anything so intense." She told him. "I saw a meeting between the death eaters and you-know-who. I think they have a plan to kill you, sir. They said something about a boy being given the task, but they thought he wouldn't be able to do it so someone else was being told to do it when the boy fails. I couldn't see who they were referring to. There were no names."

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, "I have been aware of this plan for quite some time." He seemed matter of fact, and it surprised Tamara both that he already knew and that he seemed so calm about it. "What else did you see, Miss Rhiordan? He asked.

Thalia went on. "They talked about other things. You-know-who was telling the death eaters that he would be unstoppable because of his horcruxes. I had no idea what he meant by that."

Dumbledore looked grave, but he didn't question Thalia, choosing to ponder her words instead. Thalia began to look supremely uncomfortable. "Sir, there was something else. Before the vision ended, you-know-who sort of spoke to me. He thanked me for showing him my mind and that it would be really useful to him." At that revelation, the colour seemed to drain from Dumbledore's face and Tamara didn't think that she had ever seen him look so serious in all her time at Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid that you have all been put in terrible danger. Miss Rhiordan, it appears that you had a momentary connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that allowed you to see one of his most private meetings. That same connection that allowed you to see into his mind also allowed him to see into your mind in return. We can only guess at how much he saw, of course, but I think it is safe to assume that he probably knows about Tamara's heritage now. The fact is that you are no longer safe within the walls of Hogwarts. He will be expecting you here. We need to move you all to a safe house."

Tamara's heart pounded so fiercely in her chest that she thought it might explode at any second. Was this really happening? She glanced at Jez and Thalia. Their faces were etched with terror. None of the training in the world, it seemed, could prepare a person for such dark days.

"You will be accompanied on this trip." Dumbledore told them. This relieved Tamara, though she wondered who their chaperone was to be. Perhaps Dumbledore himself would come with them. She hoped so. She would feel so much safer with the Head Master at hand.

"Dobby!" Dumbledore called, suddenly. With a loud crack, a stocky house elf appeared before them.

"How can Dobby be of service, Professor Dumbledore, Sir?" The elf asked, somewhat over-enthusiastically.

"Dobby, I need you to awaken Harry Potter and his friends, Ron and Hermione, and I need you to alert Professor Snape. Tell them all to come here immediately.

"Of course, Sir, anything Sir." Dobby agreed. With another loud crack, Dobby had disappeared again, apparently to complete the task that Dumbledore had given him. So they would be accompanied by the Gryffindor trio and Snape. Though she had no idea why they had been chosen to come with them to the safe house, Tamara couldn't help but be relieved that Snape would be with her. She would get her final moments to see him after all. And perhaps he could even help her prepare for what was to come.

The time they waited for Snape and the others to arrive seemed like an age. No-one said anything, and Tamara shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. She hated waiting, especially at times like this. The anxiety and anticipation of what was to come was torturous. Finally, Snape arrived, his robe billowing after him. Hermione, Harry and Ron were close behind.

"The time is upon us, I'm afraid." He told Snape, a hint of regret in his eyes. "I need you to accompany the students to the Order's Head Quarters. I need you to keep them safe for as long as possible. When the time comes, you will know what to do." Dumbledore's words were cryptic, as usual, but Snape seemed to understand the Head Master perfectly.

"Gather round." Dumbledore told them all, ushering them towards his desk. Ron and Hermione looked slightly confused at what was happening. But Harry, however, seemed almost prepared for it. At least as prepared as one could be. Dumbledore waved his wand, casting the portkey charm on an old coffee mug.

"Harry will accompany me, tonight." He told them. "The rest of you are to stay with Professor Snape. Now, after a count of three I want you all to place a hand on the portkey." They nodded, gathering around the coffee mug. Snape was pressed beside Tamara, their hands at the ready. "One... two... three!" Their hands grasped at the coffee mug in a mad flurry, and with a pop! they simply disappeared, vanishing from within the walls of Hogwarts.


	14. Grimmauld Place

**AN: Thanks to WitchGypsy and Alabaster Princess for your interest. I'm glad to know people are still reading this. This wasn't an easy chapter to write so I hope it reads okay. Chapter 15 will be posted on Friday the 16th of July, so stay tuned!**

_**Chapter 14 – Grimmauld Place**_

_~ We live in deeds, not years –_

_In thoughts, not breaths; -_

_In feelings, not in figures on a dial._

_We should count time by heart-throbs._

_He most lives who thinks most _

– _Feels the noblest - acts the best ~_

_- Philip James Bailey_

Tamara stumbled. She had never travelled by portkey before. Neither had Jez and Thalia, it seemed, because they too were struggling to regain their balance as they took in their new surroundings. Ron and Hermione, evidently, were well practised at it though, and Tamara wondered vaguely how much she had been missing over the years. Taking in her surroundings, she saw that they had appeared in the dark and dusty lounge-room of a dismal and abandoned looking old house.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place." Snape replied. "We are in London." Tamara raised an eyebrow at this revelation, drinking in her surroundings.

"I think there's some explaining to be done." Jez said, tersely, sitting on the arm of the dusty, faded couch. Tamara sat beside her, sinking into the cushions. For a dusty old piece of furniture, the couch was surprisingly comfortable. Thalia sat beside Tamara, and Ron and Hermione took the two arm chairs, while Snape preferred to lean against the mantelpiece. Once they were all settled, and after glancing at one another uncomfortably for a moment, Jez asked the question that had been on Tamara's mind. "So what exactly is the Order of the Phoenix, then?" At that, Hermione nervously glanced at Snape. When he did not answer, she began to speak.

"It's an organisation that Dumbledore formed when you-know-who first came to power. They reformed when you-know-who came back. They fight against the dark forces. This house used to belong to Harry's godfather. They use it as their head quarters." Hermione explained, nervously.

Tamara shot a look at Snape, suddenly realising what he meant when he had spoken of being a spy for Dumbledore and the task he had been given. The look he returned was poisonous as though he knew what she was thinking and that she definitely _shouldn't_ say anything. She understood, realising that if the others found out that she already had inside knowledge that it would result in complications for them both.

"I suppose Dumbledore didn't think it necessary to tell me about all this, then." Tamara said, indignantly, shifting her thoughts. Hermione looked sympathetic.

"Don't feel bad, Tamara." She said. "He did the same thing with Harry at first, too. I'm sure he had his reasons." Hermione explained, apologetically. "This year, Harry's been having sessions with Dumbledore to try and figure out the way Voldemort's mind works. I'm not really sure what they've come up with so far." She went on. Tamara didn't respond, processing the new information in silence.

"So what about you three, then? Do you mind telling us why we've all been yanked out of bed and trundled off to Grimmauld Place in the middle of night?" Ron asked, irritably changing the subject.

Tamara, Thalia and Jez glanced at each other and in silent mutual agreement, Tamara was nominated as their spokesperson. Sighing, she decided to tell their story from the beginning. "It started some months ago when I found out about being adopted. Dumbledore told me that my birth mother was some famous witch and Voldemort wanted to steal her power but that she died in battle with him before he could." It seemed odd, talking about it like that, and Tamara couldn't help but feel a pang as she thought about her birth mother becoming nothing more than a hidden history record. "Apparently, no-one knew about me except Dumbledore and she had me adopted to keep me safe, but Dumbledore said that if Voldemort ever finds out about me then I could be in danger and will probably have to face him."

Ron shuddered at every mention of Voldemort's name, and Snape looked none-too-pleased either. The others, however, were becoming used to it. "So why are here now?" Ron asked.

"Thalia has psychic abilities." Tamara explained. "Its how I first found about all this. Tonight she had a vision about a death eater meeting and Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort might know about me now and that we might all be in danger."

Silence fell over the room at the revelation. Tamara chanced another look at Snape and wished that she could decipher his inscrutable expression. It had always been difficult to know what he was feeling, and even given their conversations of late she still found that she couldn't quite tell when he hid behind that particular expression. Hermione looked extremely awkward. Her friendship with them as well as with Harry and Ron had obviously put her in a difficult position where certain sensitive information was concerned. Thalia looked guilty, considering it was her vision that had started all this, but Jez and Ron simply looked tired.

"So what do we do now?" Jez asked.

"I think we're supposed to just wait for a while, if Dumbledore's anything to go by." Tamara replied.

"Tamara's right. There's not much we can do now, so perhaps we should all try and get some sleep. I imagine we'll need it soon enough." Hermione added. "The bedrooms are on the first floor."

The others agreed. Thalia and Jez joined Hermione and Ron in organising the rooms, and Tamara decided to try and find the kitchen so she could make a long-overdue cup of tea. She soon became horribly lost, though. The corridors twisted and turned in all manner of directions and in the dark the place seemed rather spooky. All of a sudden, she felt a hand settle on her waist. In an instant, she had whipped around and had her wand at the ready. When she saw that it was Snape, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness!" She exclaimed. "I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of the kitchen, could you?"

He nodded. "Come with me." He told her, his voice delightfully soft. Placing a hand on the small of her back (in itself a significant display of affection for Snape), he guided her through the corridors and into the kitchen. Gratefully, she put the kettle on the stove to boil.

"I know we said we wouldn't talk about _us _until after all this, but..." she paused, the words somehow unwilling to form. "This is the last opportunity we'll have to spend proper time together, isn't it." She said, voicing a concern they had both been thinking.

A look of regret clouded his eyes. "Yes, I think so." He told her.

"Will I ever get to see you again?" Tamara asked, choking back tears. He looked troubled.

"If you still feel the same way after..." His words trailed away. She knew what he was referring to and the intensity in his gaze was startling, making her feel oddly weak at the knees. Feeling as though his gaze had penetrated her very heart, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by everything that was happening. Dropping into one of the chairs that surrounded the kitchen table, tears began to roll down her cheeks. He watched her, uncomfortably, not used to such displays of emotion. After a moment he extended his hand, uncertainly, and began to stroke her hair, feeling more than a little awkward. He hoped beyond all hope that she wouldn't hate him when the deed was done.

"You know, I'm not even scared of him anymore," Tamara finally said, referring to Voldemort. "I'm so just angry. The only thing wars achieve is to tear people apart. This isn't fair."

"I wish I'd understood that when I was young and foolish." He commented, reminiscently. "Perhaps things might have been different."

Tamara understood his sentiments, but his words surprised her nonetheless. "Dumbledore says everything happens for a reason." She said, gathering herself. "Perhaps it's supposed to happen this way. Maybe some good _will _come of this, especially if it's necessary for the Order. Maybe it will make us stronger."

He couldn't help but smile at her positivity despite it being their darkest hour. "Let's hope so." He told her. "But Tamara, you must be aware that Order will in all likelihood not understand my actions."

Tamara frowned. "But isn't your task for the Order?"

"It is," he told her, "but this task had to be kept strictly between Dumbledore and myself."

"Is it really that dangerous?" She asked, alarmed.

"It might be." He told her, wishing he could lessen the blow somehow and hating seeing the fear in her eyes. "You haven't had your tea yet," he suddenly said, making an effort at turning to an easier topic of conversation. She managed a small smile at his efforts and turned back to the kettle, busying herself for a moment with making mugs of tea for them both. A few minutes later, they both sat opposite each other at the kitchen table enjoying the steaming beverages. Somehow, tea always made things feel better.

The next morning it was still dark when Tamara awoke. Trying her best to be quiet, she tiptoed down the stairs. This time, she managed to find the kitchen without getting lost, but when she opened the kitchen door she found that it already had an occupant; Jez, who had always been a famously early riser with her almost boundless energy. Wordlessly, she headed toward the kettle to make a cup of tea.

"You got to bed late last night." Jez commented, pointedly. She knew her best friend all too well.

"I wanted a cup of tea but I got a bit lost trying to find the kitchen." Tamara told her, deciding not to mention her conversation with Snape. It seemed odd that she inwardly felt so unwilling to tell Jez the truth about the small steps she and Snape had finally begun to take toward one day being able to share a proper relationship. After all, Jez had always known about her feelings for Snape. Somehow, though, it seemed important to simply trust her intuition, so that's what she did. Jez knew Tamara well enough to know that there was something her friend wasn't saying, and though she looked a little hurt she didn't push it, and the two girls silently occupied themselves with cups of tea for a while.

It wasn't long before they were joined by Snape, who was of course an early riser himself. Tamara wished she could give him a good morning kiss and gazed at him wistfully as he joined the two girls at the table but it wasn't long after this that the kitchen was bustling with activity. Hermione decided to take it upon herself to organise breakfast for everyone and supplied stacks of pancakes and toast, to which Ron generously helped himself. It wasn't a brilliant feast, by any means, but Hermione did well under the circumstances.

The day passed slowly, with little to do but explore the house. Deciding to wander the upper levels together, Thalia, Tamara and Jez followed Ron and Hermione, though Snape opted to settle in the lounge room with a book instead, and they visited endless rooms filled with strange, dark artefacts. After a while, Tamara left Jez and Thalia with Ron to explore the weird and wonderful rooms on the third floor, and accompanied Hermione to a room that was filled with books.

"How are you feeling, Tamara?" Hermione asked, uneasily, once they were alone.

"I'm scared." Tamara replied. "It doesn't quite feel real, you know." She confessed.

"Did you get a chance to talk to Professor Snape about it last night? I noticed you didn't go to bed when the rest of us did." Hermione broached the subject carefully. Tamara could see the concern written in her friend's face.

"Yeah I did. We talked about a lot of things. I sort of don't want to broadcast it though, so I'd appreciate it if we could keep it between the two of us." Tamara replied, as diplomatically as she could.

"Of course." Hermione assured her. "He's treating you okay now, though, isn't he? Professor Snape, I mean."

"We had a talk a few months ago. I haven't really mentioned much it, though. Adelaide had her breakdown that day. But things have okay since then. I'm in good hands, honestly." Tamara explained. Hermione managed a smile, though Tamara knew that she had struggled to understand. She knew that Hermione was only voicing sentiments that her friends had also obviously shared, but Tamara appreciated Hermione's respect and tact.

After that, the two girls occupied themselves with the books for a while in silence. Most of the books were old and fragile and all of them bore dark and elitist titles. It was obvious that the family who had once lived here had been purebloods. For a while, they simply occupied themselves with the fascination of flicking through the books and discovering things they hadn't known before and if one of them came across something particularly fascinating (or horrifying) they would share it with the other. After a couple of hours had passed, though, they abandoned this past-time and continued to explore. In one of the rooms they found an old set of wizard's chess which they decided to bring downstairs to the lounge.

Snape was still there when they arrived, still occupied with his book. He looked up at them, wanting to talk to Tamara but deciding against it considering that she was not alone. Instead he opted for his usual method of social communication and decided to wear an expression of supreme irritation. Tamara felt disconcerted by his apparent annoyance but decided to take it as a means of maintaining discretion.

Hermione began arranging the chess set on the floor and Tamara took a seat opposite her. As Hermione had set the white pieces in front of Tamara it was up to her to begin the game, which she did by moving one of the pawns and Hermione considered her response. They went on like this for a while and eventually descended into a conversation about transfiguration theories. Tamara realised that she enjoyed participating in the academic discussion and found herself wishing that Hermione had been at the Potions Conference with her. Perhaps she might have enjoyed it more if she'd had someone to discuss the lectures with.

Eventually, the others returned and the academic conversation gave way to the idle chatter shared by Ron, Jez and Thalia. Tamara admitted her chess defeat and let Ron take her place. Ron seemed to be quite the master when it came to wizard's chess and she amused herself with watching the game for a while. After a time, however, she found herself feeling more than a little restless and she excused herself from the room, explaining that she wanted to reply to the letter that Elizabeth had sent.

Tamara was beginning to get used to the strange old house now, so she had little trouble locating the drawing room. Conveniently, there were still sheets of parchment on the table, and a quill and pot of ink weren't difficult to find. Sitting down, she pulled the parchment toward her, dipped the quill in the ink... and realised that she had no idea what to say. Somehow, _"Dear Elizabeth, I contacted you because an evil wizard murdered our whole family" _didn't quite sound right. As far as Tamara was aware, Elizabeth had no idea that the wizarding world even existed, since she and Rosalyn had been the only witches in the family. So what should she say?

Sighing, she put the quill down and took to staring out of the window instead. She noted, vaguely, that it was beginning to get dark and she wondered how many nights they would have to stay in this god-forsaken house. With that question invading her mind, her thoughts turned to the war. Being so close to 'doomsday' and yet not knowing when it would all happen felt to Tamara the way she imagined it would feel to be on death row. It was torturous, and not for the first time she wished for it all to be over.

At that moment, the door creaked open. Startled, Tamara turned around to see who her visitor was. Happily, she saw that it was Snape. Unhappily, though, he looked grave, and was rubbing his arm.

"It's almost time." He said, simply. Her face fell.

"Has he called for you?" Tamara asked, referring to the dark mark which was obviously what was irritating Snape.

"Not yet, but the mark is beginning to itch. He's on the move."

"This is it then. This is the last moment we'll have together." Tamara said what they were both thinking as she tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat.

"I'm afraid so." He replied, looking uncomfortable. Somehow, the air between them seemed stagnant. All of the ease and feeling that Tamara had experienced over the last few months seemed to have disappeared. All that remained was the awkwardness that Tamara used to feel with him before all this had happened. Perhaps neither of them were very good at this sort of thing but she did so wish that he wouldn't choose now, of all times, to go back to hiding himself behind his protective wall. His coping mechanisms frustrated her. For all the progress they had made he still seemed somehow unable to trust her. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, though. This _was _Snape after all, and his famous lack of ability to express emotion was displaying itself with flying colours.

At exactly that moment, Jez burst into the room. "We need everyone in the lounge." She said. "Thalia had another vision."

Usually, Tamara would have no hesitation in following Jez but after everything that had happened of late, and after how inexplicably her world had deteriorated around her, Tamara was simply too angry with it all to respond rationally. It even had to interrupt her final moment with Snape, who she noticed had now completely erased all vestiges of emotion from his face and was once more wearing his usual irritatingly unreadable expression.

"You know what; I've had it with this war." She said, anger permeating her voice as her eyes glared. With that, Tamara did the worst thing that she could have done under the circumstances... she stormed out of the house, trading its protective walls in for the treacherous streets that lay beyond.


	15. Confrontations

**Author Note:**** This one is for _Holly_, who waited so patiently for updates! In answer to your comments, yes I've been trying to keep up a regular posting schedule so I don't fall behind again. I've been enjoying writing. Yeah my writing style has definitely changed which is why I spent a lot of time last year editing the earlier chapters so at the very least the writing is consistent throughout the story, even if I think those earlier chapters could be improved. But even so, what you say about most writers feeling that way about their beginning chapters is a good point. Rowling is a classic example - she takes ages to get the story going, but when it does its awesome! Anyway thanks for your review and for reading again after such a long time. I'm glad you like the new chapters.**

**Thanks also go to _Wendy Waddles_ who has been so thoughtful in her reviewing and in messages. Your encouragement has been wonderful, and you really helped me to get through what has really been a stressful week for me.**

**A quick thanks to all those who added me to author alert lists and favourite lists and so on. Your interest means so much to me. Acknowledgements go to Ladysilverdragon2, Auroraxhime and Miss lemci. **

**Well, this chapter represents an important part of the story and it definitely wasn't an easy one to write. I did my absolute best to get the mood, action and emotions right so I really really hope you all like this. I don't think I've been this nervous about posting a chapter for a long time!  
**

**Happy reading and let me know if you think I've stuffed it up completely or whether its actually not so bad :D Take care!  
**

**PS: Sorry about the double alert to those who have alerts set. I needed to edit something and I had to reupload the chapter to get it to go through.  
**

**Chapter 15 – Confrontations**

_~ For valour, is not love a Hercules,_

_Still climbing trees in the Hesperides?_

_Subtle as a sphinx; as sweet and musical_

_As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;_

_And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods_

_Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony._

_Never durst poet touch a pen to write_

_Until his ink were tampered with love's Sighs:_

_Oh! Then his lines would ravish savage ears,_

_And plant in tyrants mild humility ~_

_- Shakespeare_

Tamara strode through the streets, tension lacing her every step. It was all so frustrating, and Jez's unfortunate interruption of her final moment alone with Snape had been the last straw. It wasn't Jez's fault of course, but it was all getting to be too much and Tamara found that she suddenly had to be as far away from it all as possible. As she walked, she realised that a feeling of guilt was beginning to niggle away at her. If she had been sensible she would have stayed and gone to the lounge to hear what Thalia had to stay. If she was a strong enough fighter she would have done whatever was necessary for the cause. Instead, she had run away.

Trying to banish those thoughts, at least for now, she cast her eyes at her surroundings. The London streets seemed to be as dismal as the place she was presently trying to avoid. The houses seemed to emit little in the way of comfort and warmth, and though the streetlights shone overhead their light did not seem to be very illuminating. In fact, a greater darkness and heaviness seemed to hang in the air than was usual for a dark winter evening. Even the cold seemed to have a stronger bite. Shivering with unease as well as the chilly night air she drew her arms more tightly around her, though it made little difference, and not for the first time she began to wonder whether this reckless venture had really been such a good idea after all.

Under any other circumstances she might have swallowed her pride and turned back around again, but despite any protests her rational mind made her feet kept moving forward and before long she realised that she was hopelessly lost. After a time, Tamara realised that she had the uneasy feeling of being watched. She cast her gaze about her, trying to find the owner of the pair of eyes, though seeing no-one, and the uncomfortable feeling remained with her as she continued to walk, even when she quickened her pace. After a moment, however, the winding streets arrived at a large grassy oval, dotted with bushes and trees that leered at her in the wind. Unconsciously, she shrank back.

At that moment, a hand settled on her shoulder. Using all of her willpower not to physically jump into the air in surprise, she found herself being ruthlessly spun around. When her eyes fell on Snape she didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more nervous.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, angrily, in a low voice, his hand gripping her shoulder in a pincer like grip.

Before she could answer, however, a 'pop' sounded behind her and a gravelly voice spoke. "You arrive with a quite a bounty, Severus. The Dark Lord will be pleased."

Tamara felt strangely unwilling to look on the owner of the voice so she chose to fix her gaze on Snape instead, hoping that his eyes would betray some reason, any reason, for the other man to have said such a thing. Snape's eyes, however, were neutral. Tamara's heart began to pound in her chest with a fear greater than she had ever felt before. It seemed that not only would she now have to face Voldemort, but that Snape had betrayed her in the process. Though she did not trust herself to speak, she silently begged him to give her some sign that all was well; that it was all a part of some plan. The assurance never came, and without further ado she had no choice but to allow the second man, a death eater by all accounts, to begin roughly shoving her in the direction of the trees.

What had looked like a small patch of trees from the street seemed much bigger once they began to pass through and it took Tamara quite some time to realise that this effect could be attributed to magic. After a while, they eventually emerged out from the trees and into a small clearing, at which point she was pushed to her knees. All at once a new wave of fear crashed over her and she found herself too afraid even to look up. A pair of bony feet, almost completely covered by a long black robe, stepped into her line of sight. Dread began to poison her insides. She didn't need to look at the new entrant to know exactly who he was.

"You have done well." He told the other two men, his voice containing a slight hiss that reminded her faintly of a snake. Without warning, she was suddenly propelled to her feet which forced her to come face to face with Voldemort, who was lowering his wand. Looking at last on the wizard who had been the very source of all her heartache and pain was an experience that nothing could have prepared her for. Though he looked oddly reptilian, it was not his appearance that seemed to frighten Tamara the most. There was something in his eyes that made one want to cower in terror, and it was all she could do to keep from dropping back to her knees and attempting to crawl out of the clearing on all fours.

"Of course, I had intended for the vision I planted in your friend's mind to compel you to come to me, but no matter. Our little impromptu meeting will suffice." Voldemort told her, speaking in an incredibly slick voice.

This caught her attention. So the vision had been a decoy. Whether she had stayed to find out its contents or not would apparently not have mattered. Voldemort had played on her weaknesses by planting it, and in the end it had been the catalyst that had brought this meeting about, even if it hadn't been in the way that Voldemort had intended. Apparently, this really was her time to face Voldemort. She only hoped her friends didn't do anything reckless because of the vision.

Another thought occurred to her. If Voldemort was behind all this, then perhaps Snape wasn't really responsible for bringing her to Voldemort. Perhaps he had come after her, to bring her back to Grimmauld Place, but had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her heart pounded with the possibility and she desperately hoped that she was right. The thought that Snape could have betrayed her after all that had happened between them was heartbreaking, and in the present moment she would have given anything to know the truth. She wanted desperately to throw her gaze on him, to see if anything would be revealed in his eyes, but she didn't dare. If her assumption was right, then it would be dangerously stupid to risk doing anything that could blow his cover. If she was wrong... she didn't want to think about that. Maintaining her stance facing Voldemort, she did her best to avoid his blazing red eyes and settled her gaze at the level of his shoulders instead.

"You must be an incredibly talented witch to have escaped my notice for so long." He commented, thoughtfully. Tamara wasn't sure whether there was a right or wrong way to answer this, so she said nothing. When she didn't respond, his features contorted and he suddenly raised his wand and called "crucio!" Completely unprepared for this, she dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. There were no words she could possibly think of that could adequately describe the atrocity that was the cruciatus curse. The closest she could have come to describing it was to say that it felt almost as though someone had reached inside her and was ruthlessly twisting and pulling at her organs and putting them all back in the wrong spots. Desperately, she wished for Snape to come to her aid. Of course there was nothing he could have done without openly defying Voldemort and facing a potentially fatal reprisal for his actions, and that would help neither of them, especially if her thoughts about him proved to be right. Tamara understood this, though it didn't stop her from wishing that she didn't have to endure this alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort finally uttered the counter-curse and the pain stopped, leaving her panting and exhausted.

"Insolent girl! Speak when you are spoken to!" Voldemort scolded. "Get up!"

Tamara found the command of getting up a difficult one to comply with. The cruciatus curse had robbed her of most of her energy. Knowing it was folly to ignore him again, though, the best she could do was try to summon her protective shield as she had been taught (if she had any hope of surviving this encounter), and hope that it would work when he cast the cruciatus curse on her again. It took every ounce of strength to do so, but when Voldemort cast the curse again a faint shield began to surround her. It wasn't enough to dispel the curse entirely, but it made the experience a little more tolerable.

Voldemort removed the curse and looked down at her thoughtfully. He obviously hadn't expected her to fight back, though it was clear that he definitely didn't view her as a threat.

"Tell me, Tamara, from whom do you inherit your talent? Your Mother or your Father?" He asked, looking down at her. The question was simple enough, but for Tamara it presented an incredible conundrum. Ordinarily, she would have had no compunction in saying that her abilities came from her birth Mother. She had never had any reason to think about her birth Father. Dumbledore had made no mention of him and there had been no trace of his identity on any paperwork she had yet seen, so he had been as far from her thoughts as it is possible to be. For Voldemort to raise a question concerning him, then, created an entirely new world of confusion for her. Shakily, she rose to her feet and at last dared to look him in the eye. All at once, she felt a strong desire to confess everything, though her rational mind knew it would be foolish to volunteer any information to Voldemort. She tried to process the expression that he was wearing and how best to respond to his question. It seemed like such an odd question to ask, perhaps even rhetorical. Was it possible that he knew her Father's identity? She found herself desperate to ask him, even beg, for any information he might have about her Father, though once more her rational mind refused to let her ask such things, refused to let her stoop to such a level as to beg Voldemort for anything. Voldemort, however, didn't seem to be surprised by her reaction. Perhaps it was even his intent, knowing that she wouldn't ask and that not knowing would torture her endlessly. Voldemort, evidently, was more devious than she gave him credit for.

"Why should that concern you?" She eventually dared to retort when she finally found her voice. Voldemort's eyes narrowed at her daring attitude.

"It concerns me more than you know." He told her. "But there will be other times for that. You and I have more important business together, tonight. You, my dear, have something I've coveted for many years. Your mother had it too, but she chose death rather than relinquish it. Shame. She was a pretty thing. But no matter. I have _you _now."

A horrible realisation dawned on her as she remembered one of Thalia's visions from long ago, and the conversation they'd had with Dumbledore afterward. Voldemort had tried to steal her Mother's power but she had died in the fight against him before he could succeed. Now Voldemort, it seemed, had been given a golden opportunity to try again... with her. The stakes, then, were much higher than she had anticipated, though now she thought about it she wondered why she hadn't expected this all along. It seemed like the most obvious thing for him to attempt. At that, she thrust her hand in her pocket and drew out her wand. She held it by her side for now, but there was no disguising her intent in having revealed it.

"Now that isn't very nice." Voldemort told her, sarcasm dripping from his voice in a way that would have made Snape sound almost nice by comparison. Snape, like the other death eater, still had not said anything, nor had he made an attempt at any sort of action. He merely stood back, awaiting Voldemort's instruction. Terrified, Tamara found herself again longing to know what Snape's true intentions were towards her. If nothing else, it would ease her fear in having to defend herself against Voldemort. But suddenly a host of memories came flooding back to her. She remembered a conversation with Thalia in the Hogwarts grounds before she had embarked on her trip to London to attend the Potions Conference. Tamara had been ruminating about her strange attraction to the Potions Master and Thalia had helped her to understand that it was this ability to love that made her different to Voldemort. Another memory came to her... one of Dumbledore's Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. He had performed a powerful charm that could only be produced out of love. More memories... she remembered kissing Snape at the end of the Conference, the months of tension and confusion that had followed and their eventual reconciliation on Valentine's Day. She remembered what he told her about his mysterious task and that he had initially pulled away from her because of it.

It all came flooding back. There had never been a doubt in her mind that she loved him, and she knew that she would continue to love him in spite of it all. At that moment, her amulet began to grow warm, and she realised that she knew what to do.

"You're mistaken if you think we're anything alike." She said. "You know nothing about goodness and love. I will never be like you." Her words were laced with emphasis and meaning. Every word rang true for her. Voldemort's features, however, contorted with scorn.

"Love?" He asked. "Love is a delusion, meant to pacify the fools." He spat. Tamara almost burst out laughing. If he could not comprehend the power of love, then he truly had no comprehension of just how strong the powers of good really were.

At that moment they both raised their wands, both eyeing the other with suspicion. Voldemort began to utter words in some ancient language that she didn't understand. Feeling apprehensive she summoned her shield once more, this time it was a stronger one. A strange iridescent light began to surround her and it began to push against her shield. It seemed almost as oily as Voldemort himself and it made Tamara feel slightly nauseous.

Doing her best to remember her training sessions with Snape, she tried not to panic. She took a few deep and calming breaths and began to draw her own spell. Words began to spill from her lips, forming a spell she had not known but that somehow existed in the annals of her mind; a vestigial memory. Her magic began to take shape, growing stronger until at last it pierced through her shield and shattered Voldemort's bubble of foul magic. With one last ditch effort, Tamara pushed her spell toward him with all her might. Voldemort obviously hadn't been expecting such an offensive and his surprise worked to her advantage. Her blast of magic hit him full force and the effects of the hit were etched on his face as he scowled in pain. Struggling to breath, he broke eye contact and bent forward in exhaustion.

Though she felt exhausted herself, thanks to the energy Voldemort's spell had drained from her, she used his moment of temporary incapacitation and made to leave, though not before Voldemort's death eater lunged at her, casting spells in the hopes of preventing her escape. Snape, however, chose that moment to come to the rescue and grabbed him roughly by the collar. Fortunately, the death eater's curses hadn't done much damage, leaving her only with a few cuts and bruises.

"Take the Dark Lord to safety." He hissed at the death eater. "Then you may carry out your instructions." With that, Snape shoved the death eater at Voldemort, who promptly disapparated both himself and his master.

Finally alone with Snape once more, she cast her eyes on him. His expression was strange, though not in an unkind way, but he wasted no time on niceties. He took her by the hand and disapparated them both. Their destination, evidently, was Grimmauld Place where Tamara came face to face with her worried friends. Thankfully they had stayed put. Before anyone could say anything, though, Snape prepared to leave again.

"Stay here," he told her. "I must return to Hogwarts."

Tamara didn't like this in the slightest. "I'm going with you." She told him, flatly.

At this, Jez immediately piped up. "If Tamara's going anywhere, then so are we!"

"You have fought your battle." He told Tamara, frustration lacing his voice, and ignoring Jez. It was obvious that something was happening back at their school and that time was running short. "I will not have you involved anymore than you need to be."

"The safety card won't work." Tamara told him, sharply. "I just faced Voldemort, not Santa Claus! I can handle it!"

Snape sighed, utterly frustrated. The conversation was leading them in circles, and his time was short. His task at Hogwarts called, and it couldn't wait. There was nothing else for it. He would have to take them with him. Grudgingly, he beckoned for them all to join hands in a circle. Moments later, he had apparated once more and this time they all appeared outside the gates which led to the school grounds.

The dark mark was hovering eerily in the sky above the castle. Snape cursed and began to hurry them, half dragging them up the hill as he sprinted in an attempt to reach the castle more quickly. When they reached the entrance hall, he told them to stay in the house towers and headed away from them.

After an awkward moment of silence, Hermione spoke up. "I think we should warn the students, and it's probably best if we stay together as well."

They all agreed with this and since they were closest to Gryffindor tower they all decided that would be a good place to start. With that, the five headed briskly toward their destination, with Ron and Hermione leading the way. For Tamara, Jez and Thalia this was an entirely unfamiliar part of the castle and under other circumstances they might have found the adventure exciting. On this night, however, they made the trip with trepidation.

Ron and Hermione eventually came to a stop next to a large painting of a particularly well-built lady wearing a pink dress. Ron swiftly uttered the password and they all made their way to the Gryffindor common room which wasn't unlike their own common room in the Ravenclaw tower, although Ravenclaw's subtle blue decorations had been exchanged for red. They didn't linger, however, and hurried to the dormitories to wake the older students.

Finally all of the Gryffindor sixth and seventh years were gathered in the common room. Most of the students looked confused and bedraggled and they shot Tamara and her friends questioning looks. It wasn't every day that they had midnight visits from Ravenclaws.

Hermione placed a chair in the centre of the room and stood on it in an attempt to shush the crowd. "You're all wondering why you're here." She said, which the other students grouchily agreed with. "Hogwarts is in danger." She announced. Panicked whispers immediately broke out. "Last night we were taken to London for our safety, but Tamara here was abducted by a death eater and had to face you-know-who. She managed to get away and we came back to school to warn everyone. The dark mark has been cast over the castle which means Hogwarts is no longer safe."

The students were staring at each other, some even grasping each other's sleeves. It was clear that they were all scared. And so they should be. Hogwarts had always been a safe haven and now it had been breached by the dark forces.

At that moment a loud crash rang out, reverberating through the whole floor. Tamara shot Hermione a look. Hermione returned her look with an expression that said "don't do anything rash" but Tamara chose to ignore this and dashed out of the tower to find the source of the crash, leaving the others to organise themselves.

The castle struck Tamara as eerie now that she dashed through the dark, empty corridors by herself, and it became increasingly clear that things weren't as they should be. The suits of armour, in particular, were scattered across the corridor. Warily, Tamara walked on. The further she got the worse the damage became. Portraits had been shredded, windows were broken, and rubble coated the floor. After a moment, she arrived at the foot of the staircase that led to the astronomy tower and came face to face with a group of death eaters who were making their way down.

At first they didn't seem to know what to do. Apparently, they hadn't counted on coming across a student. Tamara took advantage of their momentary indecision and cast the first spell; a simple deflection charm to disarm the head death eater. The death eater simply looked confused for a moment. When he realised that he had been deprived of his wand, however, an angry expression replaced his confusion and his fellow death eaters began to fire curses at her. She managed to deflect most of them, but a particularly brutal hit caught her off guard. Her amulet had naturally reacted by producing a shield, protecting her from the brunt of the hit but the force of the curse threw her backwards. She slumped against the wall, the wind knocked out of her. The death eaters continued on their way as she waged war with her lungs to be able to draw breath. When she finally drew a proper breath of air again, Snape suddenly came racing down the stairs, dragging Draco Malfoy along with him. He didn't stop when he saw Tamara, but the look he shot her was one of mixed emotions and turbulence. In seconds, however, he had gone, but he was followed a moment later by Harry Potter, whose tear-stained face sported anger and utter hate.

"Harry, what happened?" She called out, fear eating away at her.

"SNAPE KILLED DUMBLEDORE!" Harry bellowed, his eyes blazing. He didn't stop either, and he didn't offer any further explanations. He simply pushed past her and continued his pursuit, disappearing out of sight.

At first, Tamara couldn't process this information. The thought that her beloved had done the unthinkable was beyond comprehension. And Dumbledore was dead... her breath stilled in her throat and her stomach began to tie itself in knots. She bent forward, clutching her knees and breathing heavily, sure that she would vomit. Tamara couldn't begin to understand. She'd been so sure about him, even when it had seemed that he'd given her over to Voldemort. Even then, she'd trusted him, and it was because of that trust and love that her magic had been able to work against Voldemort. It seemed inconceivable that Snape could have done such a thing after all that. Her heart ached with the pain.

Suddenly, a woman's voice began to speak, echoing through the corridor. Before her eyes appeared a woman. She looked strangely ethereal and was bathed in a white light that made her long brown hair almost look golden. Instinctively, she knew it was her mother. "Trust your heart. Go to him." The apparition of Rosalyn told her. Tamara's anguish slowly gave way to an aching need in the presence of her Mother's light. She needed to love him, to trust him, and more than that she needed to understand. The need was so great that it filled her with an adrenaline and urgency that began to energise her amulet. Rosalyn reached out and took hold of Tamara's hands. At once, the light that had surrounded Rosalyn began to move toward Tamara, seeping into her body, changing her. After a moment, the human form of Tamara disappeared completely, as did Rosalyn and her brilliant white light. What now stood in Tamara's place was a stately looking owl. The owl ruffled its feathers and immediately took flight.

Tamara had never really felt the inclination to participate in broomstick activities, but flying in this manner was incredibly freeing, and she flapped her newfound wings with strength and purpose. Her new eyesight was a marvel as well. Even though it was night time she could see everything as clearly as though it were the middle of the day. Her flight took her over the forbidden forest and she had almost reached its outer boundary, and the edge of the grounds of Hogwarts, when she finally spotted Snape and Draco. Most of the other death eaters had seemingly already reached the boundary and disapparated. Only one other death eater remained inside the grounds of Hogwarts. Tamara descended and after circling Snape and Draco for a moment she came to rest on a tree branch in front of them. Snape immediately seemed to realise that this was no ordinary owl and shoved Draco through the trees where the last death eater was waiting. Once she was sure that the others had disapparated, and that she and Snape were alone, she left the tree branch and transformed back into her human self. From the look on Snape's face as she did so, he had clearly not been expecting to see her.

"That was your task, wasn't it? Killing Dumbledore." She got straight to the point. Regret filled his eyes.

"Yes, Tamara. He was my task." He told her, his voice quiet.

"Severus, I don't understand. _Why_?" She asked, perplexed.

Though Snape was obviously in a hurry and couldn't afford to wait for much longer before leaving, he took the time to give her the explanation that she deserved. "The Dark Lord initially entrusted the task of Dumbledore's death to Draco Malfoy. It soon became clear that young Mr Malfoy was not up to the task, so it fell to me. Dumbledore knew all of this. I told him that I would refuse to see it through, but he wouldn't hear of it. He refused to let me die in his place." At that his words trailed away, but he seemed to be considering something.

"There's something else, isn't there?" She said, stating the obvious. Slowly, He nodded.

"Dumbledore was dying anyway." He told her, struggling with the words. The whole situation was incredibly traumatic and attempting to explain it to the one girl who had the power to torture him with his own actions was almost more than he could bear. It took all of his strength to maintain his resolve and carry on. "He had a ring belonging to Voldemort. One of the horcruxes. I don't have time to explain it all now, but the ring had to be destroyed. Dumbledore managed it, but in the process the ring discharged a foul curse that has been eating away at his body ever since. He knew he would have died eventually anyway and he refused to have any more deaths on his hands than were necessary. He would have died in terrible pain, Tamara. He begged me to spare him that."

Snape fell silent now that he had finally given his explanation. In his eyes she could see that he begged her to understand. For Tamara this revelation was devastating, and she had no idea what to believe. It all sounded so incredulous. Not only that, but the thought that Dumbledore had been suffering all this time was heart wrenching, and that he hadn't been able to have a more heroic departure from life seemed like an unfathomable tragedy. At present, however, Tamara knew that she was now faced with what was perhaps the biggest choice she would ever have to make. Did she really trust Severus Snape? She remembered that he had warned her about the magnitude of his task. She had responded by telling him to trust her to understand. Of course, she hadn't expected this. At that precise moment, her Mother's words echoed in her mind again and all at once she understood. Love, trust, union... they were all things that Voldemort would never understand. His weapon was to sow seeds of doubt in the hearts of the strong. The best way Tamara could fight back was to prove to herself that she was different, that her life was permeated with love and trust. In that moment, she realised that she truly did love Severus Snape with all her heart, and that truly loving him meant truly trusting him.

She gazed at him, and the final proof of his goodness shone in his eyes as he gazed back at her. It was a look you couldn't fake. It was love.

"I can't imagine what you must have been going through." She told Snape, her decision made. "You must have been going out of your mind not being able to tell anyone."

"You understand, then?" He asked, quietly. She nodded, letting her hand come to rest on his cheek.

"Yes, I understand. And my feelings for you haven't changed." She told him, her eyes blazing. Nothing more was said. Suddenly his lips were pressed fiercely against hers in a passionate kiss. And though she knew that the dark days were far from over, and that there would be many obstacles still to overcome, she knew there was hope yet that one day they would have their happy ending. When they finally broke apart, he took both of her hands in his.

"I have to go, Tamara, but you must promise me not to tell anyone that you've spoken with me tonight." He told her, earnestly.

"But why?" She exclaimed. "I can make them understand."

"No Tamara, they won't understand. All they will see is Dumbledore's death and that it was at my hand. Their grief will be too strong to allow them to see reason. In the meantime, it will put you in incredible danger if they find out that you've been here. Promise me that won't tell a soul."

Shakily, she nodded. "Okay Severus, I promise."

"I must leave you, now. I will return to you in safer days." With that, he slipped his hands out of hers and turned to retreat through the trees. As he ran a poem suddenly came to him that Dumbledore had once recited. _"A thing of beauty is a joy forever: It's loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness."_ A muggle poet, John Keats, had been its author and the words were poignant. And though his world had come crashing down around him, it gave him the strength to fight for another day, and next time Tamara would be by his side. It was more than he had ever allowed himself to hope for and it spurred him on.

It only took a moment for Snape to finally disapparate and Tamara realised that she was now completely alone in the deep dark forest and that she had a long journey back to the castle ahead of her.

**Author Note:**** As you can see,**** this loosely mirrors the culmination of "Half Blood Prince", though with creative license, so I really hope its turned out okay! Let me know what you think, if you like. Thanks for reading!  
**


	16. The Funeral

**Author Note: This chapter is a day early because I'm heading away for a week's holiday soon and this is the last day I'll have in front of the internet because of flight times, so I've posted it now so you don't miss out while I'm away. The next chapter, though, is ready and will be posted next week but a day or so late, depending on time I get once I get back. I've done my best to have everything ready so that you don't have to wait an extra week for the next chapter, so I hope this arrangement works out, and I'll reply to any reviews/comments/queries when I return. **

**As you will see, this chapter continues the sort of parallel with HBP (though again with creative license).**** I think I've now just passed the halfway mark with this story, which is a great feeling :) **

**Thanks go to Wendy Waddles, for continuing to review and for continuing to be such a wonderful support. I appreciate your time so very much, Wendy!**

**Thanks also to those who have continued to put me on their story alert lists; Tsuki Hoshigaki and Loser94. It's always amazing to me that people are so interested in my story that they want to put it on alert lists, so thanks for that!**

**Well, hope you like this chapter, even if it's a sad one, and I will be in touch as soon as I get back from my short holiday :)**

**Chapter 16 – The Funeral**

_~ Idly, rajah, dost thou reason thus_  
_Of destiny! For though all other things_  
_Were subject to the starry influences,_  
_And bowed submissive to thy tyranny,_  
_The virtuous heart and resolute mind are free._  
_Thus in their wisdom did the gods decree,_  
_When they created man. Let come what will,_  
_This is our rock of strength in every ill, -_  
_Sorrow, oppression, pain and agony, -_  
_The spirit of the good is unsubdued,_  
_And suffer as they may, they triumph still. ~_  
_- Robert Southey_

Tamara knew that she wouldn't be able to repeat the magic that had previously transformed her into an owl without her Mother's ethereal help. Having satisfied her urgency and need, now, meant that she no longer had need of spiritual assistance, leaving her faced with a long walk through the forest.

The night air was frigid with cold, and though she hadn't been prepared for outside ventures she paid the weather little attention. At the forefront of her mind was the whirlwind of events that had happened in that one single evening. She had wished for months for this whole ordeal to be over, but now that it was she felt an odd sort of dissonance that was hard to reconcile. Earlier that day her life had been brimming over with so many things, what with Snape's traumatic task at Dumbledore's behest and her confrontation with Voldemort to prepare for. Now it was all over, life suddenly felt strangely empty.

Tamara took her time with the walk back to Hogwarts, seeing no reason now to hurry. Given the chaos that plagued her mind, it was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and she paid no attention to the branches of the trees that scratched her as she passed them. When she eventually emerged from the trees, the scene she found was a mad flurry of emotions and activity. Hagrid's hut had been completely burnt to the ground and students had gathered beneath the astronomy tower. They had come to see what all the commotion was about and what they had found was Dumbledore's lifeless body. Up until that point, it hadn't really seemed real for Tamara. Now, she was going to be faced with the harsh reality. Managing to slip into the crowd unseen, she finally made her way forward to lay her eyes on the tragic sight. When her eyes finally fell on Dumbledore tears began to form, unbidden. It was hard to imagine the pain and suffering he had experienced and how courageous he must have been to bear it in silence. She wished she could have said something to comfort him in his last hours.

Finally it began to rain. It was almost as though the weather chose to match their moods. McGonagall was half-heartedly trying, and failing, to dispel the crowd and Tamara didn't have the heart to move even when the distraught students finally began to make their way back into the castle. It was at that moment that McGonagall noticed her. Though Tamara was bound by secrecy as far as Snape was concerned, the older woman deserved to know the rest of the story; the truth about Tamara's heritage, and her confrontation with Voldemort. After all, McGonagall had just been thrust into the position of Headmistress, and under the most difficult of circumstances. Tamara felt that she owed her that much at least. McGonagall seemed to understand Tamara's silent concession and allowed her to wait, even though it was raining, as she went about making the final arrangements for the night. This gave Tamara an opportunity to really take a look at her surroundings. Hagrid, she noticed, was completely beside himself with grief, and though he was desperate to help he really wasn't much use to anyone in his present state. Even McGonagall seemed to carry a different air of hardness now. Seeing their grief first hand, Tamara realised just why Snape had been so adamant that she not yet reveal the contents of her conversation with him. In their present grief, they would never understand. Perhaps in the future there would come a day, when the grief had finally begun to lessen its hold on them, that they would be able to find it in their hearts to understand the reason for Dumbledore's untimely demise.

At last, Professor McGonagall was ready to retire for the evening and began to head back to the castle, gesturing for Tamara to follow. Tamara walked with McGonagall in silence until they reached her office. Inwardly, Tamara was glad that she hadn't opted for the Head Master's office. Although Tamara understood the reasons why, Dumbledore's death was no less painful and seeing his office so soon would have been more than she could bear. Presently, McGonagall conjured two armchairs in front of the fire place and a towel for Tamara who was soaking wet from the rain. Tamara took the towel, thankfully. Wrapping it around herself, she noticed that McGonagall was watching her, waiting patiently though she must have been exhausted.

Tamara explained everything. She told McGonagall about her heritage and what Dumbledore had told her. She told the professor that they had been whisked away to Grimmauld Place where they had been told about the Order of the Phoenix, and she explained that she'd had a confrontation with Voldemort. She explained everything right up to the point of meeting Harry on the stairs of the Astronomy Tower where he had told her what had happened to Dumbledore, and it was there that she finished her story. The next chapter, the part where she had journeyed into the Forbidden Forest to talk to Snape, would remain private.

An awkward silence filled the room as Tamara finished her explanation. McGonagall still look astounded at the revelation, if somewhat stony-faced. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Are you telling me that you-know-who is behind all this?" Her voice was quiet, though harsh. Tamara knew McGonagall to be a strict teacher, though she had always been fair, but this was the first time that the Head of Gryffindor had ever made her feel nervous.

"Yes, Professor. He's behind everything." Tamara told her, trying to keep her voice steady. Another awkward pause filled the room before McGonagall spoke again.

"Thank you, Miss Edgecombe. That can't have been easy." She told Tamara. Under the circumstances, it was the best that McGonagall could offer her. For Tamara, that was perfectly okay. McGonagall had been closer to Dumbledore than most. It was understandable that her grief would be strong.

"Perhaps I should give you some time alone." Tamara offered, not knowing quite what else to do.

McGonagall nodded. "Perhaps that would be best." She replied. With that, Tamara took her leave and slowly headed back to Ravenclaw tower.

All was quiet when she arrived in the common room. The students, it seemed, had finally returned to bed to attempt to get some sleep. Following their lead, she headed up the staircase to the dormitory she shared with Jez. Mercilessly, Jez was asleep meaning that Tamara would be left with some time to rest before she had to answer questions about what had happened to her.

It wasn't until she sat on the edge of her bed, however, that she noticed something on her pillow. Reaching for it she realised that it was a single red rose with a black ribbon tied to the stem. The petals sparkled in the darkness, giving away that someone had obviously charmed it for her, and she knew immediately who that person was. Holding the rose tightly in her hands, she curled up under the bed covers, not bothering to change into her pyjamas. Snape's token meant everything to her, though it saddened her at the same time. After having endured such a terrible night, with such heart-wrenching losses, it was hard to keep sight of hope, and she lay awake for hours simply staring into the darkness before she finally fell asleep.

#

The next day dawned bright and crisp. The sun rose over the horizon banishing the rain clouds and casting golden light over the castle grounds. It was hard to imagine that such terrible events had happened in such a beautiful place during the night. But the air was filled with sadness. When Tamara woke the next morning, there was a new notice on the common room notice board. The school year had been due to come to a close at the end of that month. The notice board said simply that all classes had been cancelled and that the train would carry them home early; at the end of the week. Exams, too, had been cancelled. Instead, their grades would be based on their performance throughout the school year. This, of course, caused a lot of discussion amongst the younger students who had remained in bed during the night's events. Since some of the older students had seen Dumbledore's body the news had begun to spread, but until an official announcement was made many of the students were treating it as a wild rumour.

Tamara headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast as soon as she was able to extricate herself from the common room. She didn't think to wait for her friends. In fact, she didn't think at all. She felt strangely numb, this morning, and her grief weighed heavily on her heart. When she sat at the Ravenclaw table, she could hardly manage her toast, and sipped idly at a cup of coffee instead. When Jez and Thalia finally arrived at the table they merely looked at each other for a moment. Jez and Thalia looked awkward and didn't know what to say, so in the end it was Tamara who broke the ice. She stood up and pulled her two friends into a hug.

When the Great Hall was eventually full with hungry students, McGonagall called everyone to attention. The time had come for the sad business of officially informing the students of Dumbledore's death, though artfully avoiding the fact that Snape had been responsible. Tamara barely heard the words in her sadness. It was all so much to take in. McGonagall, however, didn't seem quite so harsh this morning. She simply seemed sad, and her emotion was etched on her face. The student's reactions, for those who had not known, were a mix of shock and grief. The one part of McGonagall's speech that did register to Tamara, however, was her mention of the funeral, which was to be held that afternoon.

After breakfast the three friends, joined by Hermione, decided to make the most of the sunny weather and headed outside. Sitting under one of the large willow trees that hung over the edge of the lake, Tamara explained everything that had happened in her meeting with Voldemort. When it came to explaining what had happened after she had left Gryffindor tower, however, Tamara chose her words with a bit more care. She described the state of the corridors and that she had run into yet more death eaters after nearly being knocked over by Snape and Draco who had been closely followed by Harry Potter. She even told them what Harry had told her respecting Snape's actions. It was as much as she dared to say. They would find out eventually how Dumbledore had died and Tamara decided that it was better to be honest and let them know now rather than leave them to find out later through the newspapers. Obviously there was more to the story than she told them, but those details had to remain private. One thing that the others were curious to know was how she felt about Snape now. When asked, Tamara looked away and said that she didn't know as she trailed her hand idly through the water. She could hardly tell them that she had spoken to him, that he had explained, and that they loved each other. Instead, she told them that a lot had happened in the course of the night and that she didn't know where to even begin to process it all. Tamara changed the subject by asking Hermione how Harry was. Harry, evidently, had taken it hard and had shut himself in his dormitory, not even letting Ron in. Tamara felt terrible about this, wishing she could explain the truth.

Later that day, Tamara found herself presented with the opportunity to spend some vital time alone to try and make some sense of her feelings. She walked down the Hogwarts' staircases toward her destination. She was nervous about facing the place she had chosen to retreat to, though at the same time she knew that she needed to see it. When she finally reached the dungeons, her heart began to pound nervously. The first door she came to was one that perplexed her more than she cared to admit. It was the door that led to Snape's office. Knowing it to be locked, she headed past it. The room she had chosen to visit was dungeon number five; her potions classroom. She entered the room with a pang. Their old potions classes seemed to belong to another era, now. She had loved those classes. Potion making had always been something she'd had a natural affinity for, regardless of the fact that Snape had been the teacher, though there was no denying his skill and the standard he encouraged his students to reach.

Tamara walked the perimeter of the room, trailing her hand across the benches that had been gnarled by years of potion spillages. She came to a stop at the bench she used to work at. She had created many a potion at this bench... cast many an admiring look at Snape from it... and it was here that she had helped Jez avoid many a disaster. It symbolised the innocence that had once punctuated her life, and all the hopes and dreams she'd once had. Now life had changed. Voldemort had shattered everything, and now her dreams hung on little more than a distant hope... a tiny flicker of light in a wilderness of darkness.

After a moment she realised that her eyes were damp with tears. Wiping the tears away, she took a deep breath and turned around to leave, noticing that Juliet Malone, her old bully, stood in the doorway. Her hand was raised in the air as though she had just been about to knock on the door. The look of contempt that Tamara expected to see in Juliet's features was not there. Instead, Juliet sported an expression of sadness. When Tamara didn't tell her to leave, she slowly entered the room, pushing her long blonde tresses back over shoulder as she headed towards Tamara's bench.

"I didn't know who else to turn to," Juliet eventually said, her voice quiet and tinged with embarrassment. Tamara wasn't quite sure what to think of this. She gazed at her old nemesis, her cheeks tear-stained. "Stuff like this... it really hits home, you know." Juliet went on. "It's really made me take stock of things. I know I treated you pretty badly."

Juliet looked very awkward. Tamara, of course, felt a little suspicious, though she felt too emotional and tired to process much of anything. "It's difficult for all of us, I imagine." Tamara said.

"You really did love him, didn't you?" Juliet suddenly said.

Tamara looked up at her in surprise. "Not that it's anyone's business." She responded, cynically.

"I understand." Juliet told her. "I'm sorry I used to treat it like such a joke. The truth is, I felt threatened by you. You seemed to be so good at potions. He respected you more than I think he ever respected any of us, and you weren't even Slytherin. I didn't realise how deeply you really felt for him." She paused, aware of Tamara's stony expression. "Draco told me yesterday what was about to go down. Did you know about Snape's involvement?" Juliet's tone was quiet and sympathetic. There was nothing taunting in her eyes at all.

"Yes, I know what happened." Tamara told her, using a tone that matched Juliet's.

"You must be pretty cut up. I kinda feel that way, too, you know. I mean, about Draco. I had such strong feelings but he never really let me get too close to him because of it all. I guess he was trying to protect me. But no one understands. I thought you would because you're sort of in the same boat."

Tamara fought off the urge to cry again. It was incredible to think that after all this time, and after all she had been through at Juliet's hands, that Juliet was the one person who seemed to understand what she was going through. The urge to tell the blonde Slytherin girl what had happened between Snape and herself was very strong. Tamara reached out and took Juliet's hand in her own. "I understand exactly what you mean." She said. At this, a single tear rolled down Juliet's cheek and she smiled in spite of herself.

"For what it's worth, I don't believe that either of them were really bad." Juliet said, after a moment. This took Tamara by surprise. What exactly had Draco told her? "I know that no one else will understand that just yet, but I thought you deserved to know. Draco struggled with the task a lot. He wasn't really a bad person. He didn't really tell me much, either, but from what he said yesterday it sounds like Snape only got involved because he had to. I don't think he had much of a choice. I know it's hard, and you must be feeling terrible, but try not to think too badly of him." They were the most astute words that Tamara had ever heard Juliet say and she felt a mixture of surprise and relief that at least one other person shared her sentiments.

"I know." She said, simply. "I've been holding to that. I have to trust that there's a reason for everything, and that one day it will all work out. I'll go mad if I don't, and it's good to know that someone else understands."

Juliet nodded, squeezing Tamara's hand. For another moment, silence fell over the room. Neither girl quite knew what to say to the other. They had been worlds apart from each other, and neither of them had been expected to be thrown together like this. Presently, Juliet decided to change the subject, and asked something that had been plaguing her mind.

"They're saying you faced you-know-who last night." She blurted out. Tamara had been expecting this. It was ironic, really, that she had feared Juliet for years and that now it was Juliet who stood in awe, and even slight fear, of her.

"I had no choice." Tamara eventually told her. "It's only thanks to some extra training I had this year that I made it out in one piece. I'm lucky to be alive."

"My god, Tamara, I had no idea you were going through so much this year." Juliet said, her voice full of sadness and regret. Tamara couldn't help but marvel at Juliet's amazing change of character. It was a shame that it took such dark and tragic times to provoke that change, but if they had to endure times such as this then at least some good had come of it.

She and Juliet shared almost an hour in the potions dungeon before their conversation came to a close. While Tamara didn't reveal any important details about her involvement with Snape, it still felt good to talk to someone who shared her feelings. She wasn't really surprised that Juliet had fallen in love with Draco, either. She had always thought that they seemed rather suited to each other. After all, they had once been quite a formidable duo. When the conversation finally came to an end, though, and the two girls went their separate ways, Tamara discreetly drew out her wand and spoke the quiet words that would remove the binding spell she had accidentally cast on Juliet all those months ago. Even if Tamara couldn't ease the blonde girl's suffering, then at least she could free her of that particular burden. Once that had been accomplished she headed back to her friends, her thoughts turning over and over in her mind.

#

That afternoon found Tamara and her friends walking solemnly toward the Great Hall. After the harsh reality of seeing Dumbledore's body, the time before the funeral felt surreal and they still half expected to see him waltz into the room with the familiar mischievous glint in his eye. Going to the funeral would mean he really was gone, and the girls weren't sure how they felt about that.

When they arrived in the Great Hall they found it teeming with people. Not only were all the students there, but other visitors had come for the funeral as well. It looked like there were several important Ministry of Magic officials, including the Minister himself, and unless Tamara was mistaken some reporters were there too. She frowned. This was hardly the place to go hunting for tomorrow's scoop.

After a few minutes, McGonagall called everyone to order. The students would follow the Ministry officials and visitors outside, moving with their houses. When everyone was organised, Tamara quickly looked to see which of the teachers would be leading the Slytherins, since they had now lost their Head of House. She saw McGonagall whisper briefly to Remus Lupin, who had taught Defence Against the Dark Arts in their third year. Lupin nodded his response and quickly moved toward the Slytherins. No-one questioned this arrangement and the Slytherin students quietly followed Lupin outside. Tamara and the other Ravenclaws, of course, were lead by Flitwick, who was their Head of House. Flitwick led them to a large grassy area that overlooked the lake. Hundreds of chairs had been set up and they all filed into the seats that Flitwick indicated. Usually such organisation would have been chaotic and noisy and taken a great deal of time. Today, however, the students were compliant and it didn't take long before everyone was seated and quiet. The only sound that could be heard now was quiet sobbing from some of the throng, but that was drowned out by Hagrid who constantly blew his nose loudly into a large handkerchief as he cried great wracking sobs.

McGonagall, who stood at the front of the crowd beside the Minister for Magic and some other important looking people, waved her wand and at once a lilting melody could be heard all around them. It wasn't sad, per se, but it was quiet and beautiful and entirely fitting for the occasion. From the back of the crowd, four witches and wizards could be seen carrying a white casket towards the aisle that ran between the chairs. Though they were, in actual fact, members of the Order of the Phoenix, Tamara didn't recognise them, not having met the Order members before. She understood at once, though, that these four had been specially chosen for this task. It felt bizarre watching them pass by, knowing that Dumbledore's body lay inside the casket. A silent tear ran down her cheek. The four placed Dumbledore's casket on a large appropriately decorated table that had been set up at the front of the crowd and then quietly took their seats. The next little while was taken up with the various speeches that were made by the officials, who all gave variations on what a great and noble wizard Dumbledore had been, but their words were void of emotion in a way that Tamara found almost distasteful.

The last speech was given by McGonagall. McGonagall held up remarkably well for the most part, considering that she had probably been closer to Dumbledore than the rest of them. Finally, though, her voice faltered as her grief caught up with her. Seeing the fiercely strong Head of Gryffindor fight against her grief pierced Tamara's heart and after enduring hours of aching numbness she finally broke down in real tears, and Jez placed a comforting arm around her. Lupin, meanwhile, had gone to McGonagall's aid. McGonagall, though, soldiered on and spoke through her tears until she had said all that she needed to say. For Tamara, McGonagall's raw emotion was the most touching gesture anyone could have offered to Dumbledore.

When McGonagall had finished speaking she turned to face the casket. Drawing her wand one more time she transfigured the casket into a large marble tomb befitting of a hero, and overhead a phoenix took flight. Tamara recognised it as Dumbledore's companion, Fawkes, who was known to any student who had ever set foot in Dumbledore's office. Fawkes began a beautiful but mournful song as he flew away and out of sight.

Afterward, they began to leave their seats and were allowed to mingle as they saw fit. Almost at once Tamara came face to face with one of the horrid reporters. He was a balding man who wore a tatty brown suit, and held a piece of parchment in his hand with a quill tucked behind his ear. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her away from the crowd.

"Miss Edgecombe," he began, speaking in an utterly coarse tone, "Rumour has it that you went up against you-know-who. Would you like to comment?"

Tamara pulled her elbow out of his grasp and glared at him. "You must be the most inconsiderate and disrespectful person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. We've just had a funeral, for goodness sake. This is _not _the place for you to be plying your trade." Her words were pure poison. She didn't wait for his response, and simply turned and walked away.

Scanning the crowd she saw McGonagall talking to the Minister, and Thalia and Jez were now talking to Hermione, Ron and Neville Longbottom. Harry, however, had disappeared from the crowd. Telling her friends that she was going for a walk, Tamara set out to find him.

She finally found Harry sitting on one of the farther edges of the lake. His feet were dangling in the cold water and he toyed with a stick absently, completely lost in thought.

"Do you fancy some company?" She asked, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. He looked up in surprise, thought for a moment and then uttered a low "sure, why not". Tamara sat down, cross legged, beside him.

"So you've faced Voldemort, have you?" Harry eventually said after a long period of silence.

"Yes," she replied. "It wasn't what I imagined it would be like."

"You know it's up to us now, don't you." Harry said. "Getting rid of Voldemort. I hope you understand that we can't do it tucked up safely in Hogwarts."

Tamara had known this already and she very nearly said _yes, Snape warned me about that_ but checked herself at the last minute. Snape was the last person she should be bringing into the conversation. Instead she said "yes, I understand. I've known for a while now that I wouldn't be coming back for my seventh year."

Harry nodded in approval and the silence resumed for another few moments.

"So... how are you feeling about... you know..." Tamara said, breaking the silence and gesturing hopelessly to the remaining people who surrounded Dumbledore's tomb. Harry, who bore a somewhat desolate expression, considered this question.

"I feel cheated," He eventually said, "and angry. I feel like Dumbledore deserted me. He should have been here to help me. It was like he just gave himself up. How could he think I could do this alone?" Harry despaired.

Tamara reached out and took his hand in hers. "You're not alone in this Harry. I'll be fighting with you."

Harry managed a brief smile at this, though it disappeared just as quickly. "I don't think we'll be fighting together on this one. Not for a while anyway." He told her.

This puzzled Tamara. "Why not? The war involves us both."

Harry shot her a scathing look. "Don't be an idiot, Tamara. If we're seen together we'll be sitting ducks. Voldemort will think all his Christmases have come at once. No, it's safer if we go our own separate ways."

"Alright." She grudgingly agreed. "Do you know what you're going to do?" She asked.

"I have to destroy Voldemort's horcruxes." Harry said at once. Tamara's eyes narrowed with recognition. Snape had used this term and so had Thalia when she'd had her vision the night they all went to Grimmauld Place.

"I've heard that word before. What does it mean?" She asked.

"If you kill someone it splits your soul. A horcrux is created when you store the ripped portion in an object. That way you can't die because there's a piece of your soul still existing somewhere. Dumbledore believed that Voldemort created seven horcruxes. They need to be destroyed before we can even think about finding a way to kill Voldemort himself. Some have been destroyed already but I need to find the rest. You need to find out everything you can about Voldemort's movements and plans so we have an idea of what we'll be up against when we face him again." His tone was flat, though determined. He had made up his mind it seemed. Tamara agreed with the plan, happy that at least now she had some idea of how best to proceed.

They fell silent again, both knowing what had to be done, and both knowing that incredible danger lurked just around the corner and that they were the ones that had to face it head on. Though Tamara was incredibly scared, she felt ready for it this time. Facing the things she had already faced tended to have a rather sobering effect.

Though so much had happened already, in many ways the war was also just beginning, and both Tamara and Harry knew that there would be much more to come before either of them could really have the happy ending they longed for.


	17. The End of the Beginning

**Author Note:**

_**Edit: I have extended some of Thalia's thoughts a tiny bit in places, so perhaps that will make a bit more sense now.**_

**Thanks go to my reviewers:**

**Errorofways7**** - you have paid me a wonderful compliment when you say that Tamara is a worthy OC. Writing credible OCs is not an easy task, and stories with OCs are often overlooked completely because of this, so I really appreciate you taking the time to read and pass on your comments. I'm really glad you like the twist too :) Thanks so much for reviewing! I hope the rest of the chapters live up to your expectations.**

**Wendy Waddles**** – as always thanks for sticking with me and being encouraging and generally just enjoying the story. Those chapters were definitely sad to write and quite bittersweet, but necessary I think, and I'm glad you think that his behaviour is in character as well. I will send you a proper message when I get back home in a couple of days, and I will resume reading your fic then as well. I'm looking forward to picking it back up again :)**

**Chapter 17 - The End of the Beginning**

After the funeral, there were still a few days left until the Hogwarts Express would arrive in Hogsmeade to take them all back to London. Knowing that she wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts, Tamara did her best to spend as much time with her friends as possible, but the atmosphere was subdued and they all seemed to notice that Tamara had much more on her mind than the rest of them. Perhaps this was how Ron and Hermione felt being friends with Harry, who had always had a great deal of weight to bear. While Hermione had come to visit them on some occasions, she now spent most of her time with her two Gryffindor friends. Dumbledore's death had changed everything, and they all seemed to want to spend their time with those who were nearest and dearest.

One day, Tamara was given the opportunity to catch Hermione alone and she used the opportunity to ask her how Harry was. At first Hermione looked uncomfortable, and then she finally told Tamara that Harry wasn't planning on returning to Hogwarts. Before Tamara could tell her that she already knew about this, Hermione guiltily blurted out that Harry had told them about her own plans not to return. Hermione placed a comforting hand on Tamara's shoulder and told her that she understood how alone she must feel, as she and Ron had persuaded Harry to let them go with him. Tamara goggled at Hermione in surprise that the intelligent Gryffindor, who was next in line for Head Girl, was willing to forsake her education for this quest. It was a mark of just how important the fight had become.

As Tamara wouldn't be joining the trio on their quest, and instead embarking on her own, she knew that spending time with them wouldn't help her to feel any less lonely and fearful, and even though she and Juliet had made a great deal of progress in repairing their relationship they could hardly be counted as friends either. Instead, Tamara kept herself busy by helping the teachers with their end of year chores. Since term was ending earlier than expected, they didn't have their classes to complete the work that needed to be done. Professor Sprout, especially, had a lot to do in preparing the greenhouses for the summer and arranging everything so that the house elves could take over for the next two months. Tamara spent many an hour lining the pots of various plants with fresh fertiliser, and helping Professor Sprout to put magical long-stay sunscreen lotion on the Venomous Tentacula, in preparation for the summer months, which in itself required so much concentration and effort that Tamara was able to forget about her troubles for a short time. When the work was finished, Tamara emerged from the green house sporting fresh cuts and bruises, her skin smudged with bits of soil.

She joined her friends at the Ravenclaw table for lunch, having cleaned off the soil but still sporting the cuts. "The venomous tentacula was in a bad mood" she explained when she saw her friends questioning looks. Jez shot a look at Thalia who seemed to completely understand the non-verbal communication.

"Tamara, don't you think you're over-doing it a bit?" Jez asked, with concern in her eyes.

"I'm just keeping busy. There's no harm in that." Tamara answered, shrugging off Jez's remark. Jez however, was not to be deterred.

"It's all over now. You don't have to worry about it anymore." She said. Jez had never been enthusiastic about Tamara's involvement in the war, Tamara remembered. It was understandable; this was terrifying stuff for anyone to have to deal with. But Tamara knew now that there was a lot more to it all than any of them had realised there would be.

"While Voldemort lives and breathes, it's far from over." She said, dully, as she reached for the ham sandwiches.

"It's not your fight, Tamara." Jez protested. "You did your bit. Leave the rest to someone else."

Tamara shot her friend a serious but quizzical look. "Who else do you think we have? Dumbledore's gone and there's no-one else brave enough to stand up to him. For whatever reason, this task fell to Harry Potter and I. If we don't see it through, then who else will?"

Jez frowned. "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"

"Jez, he wants my mother's power... the power that I inherited. As long as I'm alive, he won't stop coming after me. I have no choice." With that, they resigned themselves to an awkward silence as they tersely continued with their lunch.

On their last day at Hogwarts, Tamara stayed in the dormitory to pack while Jez disappeared to have breakfast. The hour was still early and the train wasn't due to leave until 11am, meaning that there was still plenty of time. Tamara folded her school robes and placed them carefully in her trunk. It was sad to think that she would never don those robes again. For the next half an hour, Tamara carefully scoured the room for all of her belongings, finding things she hadn't seen for months. Since the sixth years kept the same dormitories, they had all become used to leaving certain things behind so that they'd have less to pack every year. Since Tamara didn't intend to return for her seventh and final year, she couldn't leave anything behind, making her trunk considerably fuller than it usually was. Finally, she came to the rose that Snape had conjured for her. She stood in her eerily empty half of the dormitory, cradling it in her hands. At that moment, Thalia announced her presence.

"You're not coming back, are you?" She said, looking around at the dormitory. Tamara dropped the rose in surprise and looked up at her gothic friend.

"No I'm not." She replied, knowing that there wasn't much point in trying to hide the truth from someone who had Thalia's psychic gifts.

"You know you don't have to do this." Thalia said.

Tamara hung her head, disappointed. "I thought you, of all people, would understand, Thalia."

"Jez is worried, you know. She thinks you're going to your death. Are you really surprised that we don't understand?" Thalia told her. The calm in Thalia's voice grated on Tamara's nerves. Did she have to be so matter-of-fact and knowing about everything?

"I'll be fine." Tamara insisted.

"Is it really me that you're trying to convince? Or are you really trying to convince yourself?" Thalia asked, her eyebrow raised. Tamara fell quiet. There was no denying her fear. Before, she'd had help. She'd had Dumbledore and her friends, and even a smattering of training sessions. Now she would be walking forward into something scarier, and she would be doing it alone. Of course she was afraid. _But you'll have Severus, _a voice in the back of her mind told her. She hoped it was true. She had no way of knowing when Snape would return to her, and just how much she'd be able to see him. She had to hope that he would return in time to help her.

Thalia walked toward Tamara and bent down to pick up the fallen rose, as if reading Tamara's mind, and examined it, gravely.

"Be careful, okay." Thalia said, handing the rose back to Tamara. Tamara took the rose and Thalia retreated from the room, leaving Tamara to finish her packing in silence. Tamara stared at the rose long after Thalia had left, unable to tell whether she had psychically realised about her relationship with Snape or not.

When the time finally came, Tamara placed her trunk in the entrance hall along with the growing pile of luggage that could be found there for the house elves to take to the train. As there was still a little bit of time before she had to make her way to the train station, she decided to use her final moments to take one final look at the castle.

She walked through the corridors, gazing at the familiar portraits, statues and tapestries. She wandered in and out of her old classrooms; McGonagall's transfiguration room, Binns' history class room, the charms room where they'd had such fun bombarding each other with cushions as they practised the banishing charm. The defence against the dark arts room held more emotion for Tamara than she'd expected. This was the room where they'd all spent most of their time with Dumbledore. She almost made it to the potions class room, but stopped at the beginning of the corridor that led into the dungeons, unable to revisit the room again after the time she'd spent there with Juliet. Turning on her heel, she headed back through the castle and out towards the waiting carriages that transported the sombre students to the station.

Tamara found an empty compartment on the train and watched as the last lot of luggage was stowed in the luggage racks beneath the train. After a moment she was joined by Thalia and Jez, who quietly sat down. The lack of conversation continued on into the first half an hour of the journey. After a while, Jez opened a copy of _The Daily Prophet_, Thalia began reading a thriller, and Tamara took up one of her old text books, though she couldn't concentrate on the words.

After a moment Jez spoke, referring the article she was reading. "They haven't caught him yet." She said, referring to Snape. Inwardly, Tamara didn't expect them to. On his own, Snape was an accomplished wizard and would have been likely to have evaded capture, but Snape would have help. He would be safe in Voldemort's inner circle, and Voldemort always kept close those who were useful to him. For now, so long as Snape convincingly played his part he would be okay. Though Tamara detested Voldemort with every fibre of her being, the thought that at the very least Snape would be safe was relieving.

At present, Jez had begun punctuating the article with her remarks, making her feelings toward Snape more and more obvious. Thalia, however, stayed relatively quiet, except for the odd murmur of acknowledgement here and there. Tamara found this a rather frustrating charade. In the days since Dumbledore's death the atmosphere had generally been filled with the grief of her school mates and teachers. She hadn't really been faced with the general sentiment that people were feeling towards the person who was responsible. Now she was seeing that sentiment directly and she didn't like it. It was more difficult to bear than she had expected it would be, and the fact that it was coming from her two best friends made it even more difficult to bear.

Tamara did her utmost to stay silent and keep her own sentiments locked away inside her, fixing her eyes on the passing country-side that whizzed by the compartment window. She so desperately wanted to tell them truth... the reason why Snape had to do it. She wanted to tell them that he was still on their side, that they could trust him. Tamara managed to keep it to herself for a time, hoping that once Jez had finished reading the article then she'd just move on to the next, but the next article was another one about Dumbledore. Tamara couldn't stop herself. She needed her two best friends to know the truth.

"Do you want to know the real reason why Dumbledore died?" Tamara suddenly shot. At that, Jez fell silent and her two friends looked up at her in surprise. "He tried to destroy a ring that belonged to Voldemort but the ring was carrying one of those curses that you can't stop; that will kill you no matter what you do. Don't you see? He was dying anyway. He made Snape do it. He didn't want to die a debilitating and humiliating death."

Jez and Thalia were staring at her in shock. "How do you know all that?" Jez quietly asked.

"Because Snape told me." The words came tumbling out of Tamara's mouth. At once she wished hadn't said anything at all, but at the same time she wished she had told them sooner.

"You're not serious." Jez said, incredulously. "And you believed him?"

Tamara nodded. "I trust him." She said, emphatically, and began explaining about Draco Malfoy's involvement and the reason why Dumbledore had been so adamant about Snape seeing it through. Jez, however, simply scoffed.

"This is ridiculous. He fed you a load of rubbish and you believed it. I thought you were over your silly crush, but you're still so starry-eyed over him that you actually believed what he told you. Tamara, he _killed Dumbledore._ What part of that don't you understand?" Jez was fuming with anger. Tamara and Jez had almost never had fights in their long friendship, and this one was incredibly serious. Tamara couldn't help but hurt.

"I suppose this is why you're not coming back to Hogwarts?" Thalia asked, quietly.

"You're leaving Hogwarts?" Jez exclaimed.

"I'm leaving Hogwarts for all the reasons I explained the other day at lunch." Tamara told them. "But I should have known you'd react this way. He told me this was all I'd get for trying to tell the truth. I thought I could trust you both to be with me on this. You're my best friends."

Jez did not take this well. "I think you have that backwards. I thought I could trust you to see reason. I never imagined that you'd actually defend a murderer."

In her desperation, Tamara turned to Thalia. "Surely you can see." She said, holding her hand out for her psychic friend to read. In that moment, it struck Thalia that she wasn't entirely sure she trusted her abilities anymore. In the last few days her visions had only brought them death and carnage, and she didn't want to be responsible for any more. With this uneasy thought praying on her mind, she turned down Tamara's invitation.

"I'm sorry, Tamara. I can understand your point of view, but you have to admit it's an incredible story and a lot to take in. I just don't see things the way you do." Thalia told her. Tamara wasn't sure what was worse; Jez's blunt hate, or Thalia's cool disappointment. With that, the disastrous conversation petered out and the three spent the rest of the journey enveloped in a tense silence.

When the train finally pulled into the station at King's Cross, Tamara sprang from her seat and immediately joined the throng of students who were clamouring to leave the train. Being jostled and shoved in the corridors, she soon lost sight of Jez and Thalia and eventually found herself stepping onto platform 9¾. It took at least another five minutes of shoving, jostling and searching to find her trunk, and eventually she was able to turn to the task of scouring the crowd to find her adoptive parents.

Tamara's eyes soon fell on Alison Edgecombe, who was not accompanied by her adoptive father but by a young woman who instantly looked familiar. Tamara knew that it was her cousin Elizabeth... her only surviving blood relative (though there was still the question of her birth father, though for the time being Tamara had put that out of her mind). Seeing her adopted mother for the first time since finding out about her true heritage would have been emotional all by itself, but with the added weight of meeting her cousin for the first time... Tamara felt as though her stomach had begun somersaulting, and her emotions took off on yet another rollercoaster ride.

Tamara pushed through the crowd of students and parents. When she finally emerged from the crowd and came face to face with her two family members, she placed her trunk on the ground and pulled them both into an emotional hug. So much had happened this year and after all the losses and everything she'd had to face (and still had to face) it felt good simply to be held in the arms of two people who loved her unequivocally. When they broke away from the hug, Alison took up Tamara's trunk and the three walked hand-in-hand toward the barrier that separated platform 9¾. Alison explained that she had always known about Tamara's true heritage and that she had been always known that it would be revealed to Tamara when the time was right. Not long before his death, Dumbledore had written a short note saying simply "she knows". Elizabeth, after receiving Tamara's letter, had wanted to meet her long lost cousin when she arrived back in London after the culmination of the school year. Not knowing that the students had finished their school year early, and not knowing the mode of their transportation, it had purely been chance (or maybe something else?) that had seen Alison and Elizabeth meet accidentally on the afternoon of Tamara's arrival. They had sat together and Alison had explained to Elizabeth, over coffee, everything a muggle would need to know about the wizarding world and what it meant to have a witch in the family.

And so it was that Tamara had arrived back in London at the end of the school year having lost much, but also having gained much along the way. She was a changed girl in almost every sense of the word, and after the trauma's, triumphs (she had survived a meeting with Voldemort, after all, and earned Snape's respect and love in the process), and surprises of the past year, it was impossible to tell what would happen next. She didn't tell either Alison or Elizabeth about Voldemort, Snape or the fall-out she'd had with her friends. She explained only that their much-loved Head Master had tragically died, and they both said that they understood if she needed to cry. At that point, though, Tamara felt that she'd already shed all the tears that were possible to cry, but after saying goodbye to Elizabeth (and promising her cousin that she'd come and stay for a while soon) she spent much of the car ride home in silence.

The next day, Jez and Thalia sat together sharing lunch in London. They both felt thoroughly miserable at the argument they'd had with Tamara on the train, and they felt guilty at the thought that they hadn't had a chance to rectify the situation and repair their friendship before Tamara left, never to return to Hogwarts. Having had a night to think things over, and digest what Tamara had told them, they both came to the conclusion that perhaps they had been highly unfair to her. Even if they didn't believe her, they could have at least found it in their hearts to be supportive, given everything that she had been through.

They pushed their forks around their plates for a while, neither really interested in the food. Eventually, Thalia put her fork down and decided to be the first to say what they were both thinking; was it possible that Tamara was telling the truth? After all, everything else that had happened this year had hardly been believable, so why not this? In the end, they conceded that they didn't know what to think, and after pondering as to the identity of the woman who had joined Mrs Edgecombe in greeting Tamara, they changed the topic of conversation and returned to their lunch. Silently, Thalia was wracked with mixed feelings of another kind. It had astounded her how easily she had been used by Voldemort. Knowing that he had planted the vision she'd had at Grimmauld Place was frightening, and she couldn't help but be filled with misgivings and doubt. And once again there was Tamara's revelation. If it was true, what was to stop Voldemort invading her mind again and finding the information that would be Tamara's undoing? She doubted she would ever really trust her abilities again. Not telling Jez about the storm of new emotions within her, she decided in that moment not to consciously use her psychic gifts again. Of course, she would never be rid of her gift completely. It was as much a part of her as her body itself was. But there were things she could do. There were ways of controlling it, and branches of occlumency that could help. Even if she had to bind her powers, she would find a way. Anything to avoid becoming an instrument of evil again.

Each of the girls knew that they had arrived at a cross roads. They both knew that they had all reached a very real ending, but also that it was the beginning of a new phase in the journey, and each wondered what events the next year would bring; what school would be like without Dumbledore, Snape, and Tamara; and what truths time would reveal.


	18. Return

**Author Note:**

_**Please note that I have updated this chapter. I extended one of the conversations toward the end of the chapter. It is contained in double bold brackets.**_

**Thanks to Loser94 and Wendy Waddles for reviews. Wendy, once more you seem to be able to see exactly what I'm getting at, so thanks for that :) Your comments are very encouraging, too. Thanks also for adding me and my story to your favourite lists :)**

**Chapter 19 due Friday the 13****th**** of August, so stay tuned :)**

**Happy reading!**

**Chapter 18 - Return**

A month had passed, now, since the early finish of the Hogwarts school year. Tamara had spent the uneventful weeks with her adoptive parents. Alison did her best to help Tamara feel better after everything that she had been through, but nothing could shake Tamara's thoughts from Voldemort. Because her adopted parents lived in the muggle world, far from any wizarding communities, Tamara'd had little contact with the goings on of the magical community, except for _The Daily Prophet _newspaper, which was delivered by owl every day. Tamara scoured the newspapers for scraps of information, though there was little to be found. It was largely owing to this that she welcomed the day that brought with it her return journey to London, where her cousin Elizabeth had an apartment. Not only would this mean getting to know the only surviving blood relative that she knew of, but it would mean easier access to heart of the wizarding community.

Tamara had now been at her cousin's apartment for a week. When Elizabeth was not at work, they spent their time together, enjoying all the things that young women should enjoy. When Elizabeth was at work, Tamara was left alone to occupy her time. As she was not yet seventeen, she still couldn't perform magic outside of Hogwarts, meaning that she would have to wait until her birthday which was due to fall the following week. In the meantime, Tamara occupied her time with visits to the Ministry of Magic's library. It was by no means as extensive as the library at Hogwarts, but as it was managed by the Ministry it at least contained copies of all the important texts of the age.

In comparison with the rest of the Ministry building, the library appeared to have been badly neglected. The library's many book shelves were crammed into one small room. It was badly lit, cobwebs lined the corners of the ceiling, and a smattering of dust lay on the shelves. A few small tables lay hidden between the bookshelves, and near the door was a desk at which sat a very old witch who wore large glasses. She spent most of her time hunched over ancient copies of _Witch Weekly, _hardly paying any attention to the few visitors that the library attracted. This suited Tamara well, as it meant that she could scour the shelves without interruption.

At present, Tamara sat at a table that was hidden between one shelf that was dedicated to defensive strategies and another shelf that contained books on ancient curses and charms. Books were spread over the table, along with old copies of _The Daily Prophet _that contained reports on all the significant events pertaining to Voldemort. On top of all this lay a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill. The parchment contained a form for applying to discontinue N.E.W.T. level studies (the legal minimum level that students were required to reach was the O.W.L. level). Tamara stared at the form. She had only to sign it, now. All in all, it wasn't a difficult task. She only had to pick up her quill. But something held her back. If she signed this form, it would mean that she really wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. But there was nothing left for her at Hogwarts now, she reminded herself. There was no Snape there anymore, and certainly no Dumbledore. Even Harry Potter had left in his search for Voldemort's horcruxes. No, her place was here now. With that, Tamara picked up the quill and swiftly signed the parchment. Now all she had to do was wait until the following week when she had come of age, when she would be entitled to make her own legal decisions, and then she could submit the form. Neatly folding the signed parchment, she tucked it into her robe pocket and turned her attention back to one of the many books she had spread over the table.

Later that day, she came home to find a weary Elizabeth having just arrived back from a shift at work. Elizabeth was a nurse, who worked at one of London's major muggle hospitals. Presently, she was placing on the dining room table a name tag and a little silver watch that clipped onto the front of her uniform. Faintly, Tamara remembered how Hermione entered her circle of friends. Hermione had overheard Tamara and her friends discussing Tamara's family and Hermione had given her the details for who she thought was her cousin. At that time, the records had pointed to Elizabeth as being a lawyer. Later, they had all realised that it was just one of the many false leads that had been left by a concealment charm that Tamara's Mother, Rosalyn, had placed on Elizabeth to keep her safe from Voldemort. Tamara smiled, inwardly. The law seemed a far cry from Elizabeth's true vocation to help the sick and needy.

As she watched Elizabeth, Tamara was also reminded of that fateful conversation she'd had with Dumbledore so long ago. Not only had he told her about her birthright, but he had also made a quip about her inheriting her Mother's gift for potion-making and her love of healing work. All of a sudden, words were tumbling out of her mouth.

"You know, the Headmaster told me before he died that my Mother used to like healing work." She said. Elizabeth looked up at Tamara in surprise. "Maybe it runs in the family." She went on.

Elizabeth smiled, recalling one of the few memories she had of her aunt. Five year old Elizabeth had fallen and scraped her knee and Aunty Rosalyn had gently dabbed at it with a damp cloth and looked up at her with keen eyes that really seemed to see into you. Tamara, now, was looking at her the same way.

"I didn't know her very well." Elizabeth said. "But you have the same air about you that she did, and you carry yourself the same way. You remind me of her."

Tamara gazed at her cousin, amazed to hear someone reminisce about the Mother she had never met. She sat at the table and watched as Elizabeth suddenly dashed towards a chest of drawers and began searching. After a moment, Elizabeth turned away from the drawers and joined her at the table, handing her a couple of photos. The first was one that Tamara recognised, largely because it was so very similar to the drawing Thalia had once sketched, though it was very different to look at a photo than it was to look at a sketch. The eyes seemed to contain so much more emotion in the photo and it was incredible to behold. Tamara's breathing quickened as she looked on a real image of her birth Mother for the very first time.

"The top one is Rosalyn." Elizabeth confirmed. "I always liked that photo. It's how I always remembered her." Elizabeth then pointed to the next photo, which depicted a group of people, with a smiling Rosalyn standing behind them. "That was taken the last time the whole family was together. There's your grandmother in the middle, and your grandfather. There's my Mother, Janice; she's your Aunt, and that's me." Elizabeth was pointing to a small girl. Elizabeth went on to tell Tamara about everyone in the photo. When she had finished talking about their late family members, Tamara handed the photos back to her, but Elizabeth pushed them back to Tamara. "Keep them" she said. "I've got plenty of photos." Tamara smiled at the gesture. She'd always had photos of her adopted family, but until now she had taken them for granted. Since Tamara had never met her birth Mother, and had no family memories for consolation, she treasured the few items of Rosalyn's that she had in her possession. And now to have photos... to be able to put faces to the names she had seen in the documents... it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Having Elizabeth in her life now was a blessing. There will always be losses in life. Tamara knew that. But meeting her cousin was proof that you could always find a light when all else seemed dark.

The next day, Elizabeth had already left for an early shift at the hospital when Tamara woke up. For a while she occupied herself with making some toast for breakfast and a cup of tea to go with it. It was a far cry from the food she had become used to at Hogwarts, but it was enjoyable nonetheless and it kept her mind busy as she sat down at the table to read one of Elizabeth's muggle newspapers, _News of the World_, while she ate. In truth, Tamara felt very alone. Her friends had deserted her, the support network she'd had at Hogwarts had been left behind when she had returned home, and Snape was still bound to do Voldemort's bidding. It was the latter that worried Tamara the most though. She had no way of knowing when she'd see him again, or whether he was even okay. For all she knew, Voldemort could have discovered his true sentiments and perhaps had exacted his revenge. She wished, fervently, that there was some way of knowing that he was, at least, alive and well.

And then there was Harry, who also had to wait for his seventeenth birthday in order to perform magic outside school. She wondered if he was having any more success with his journey than she was at present. _At least he has his friends with him_, she thought bitterly. For a moment, she wondered why he had let Ron and Hermione go with him when he had not allowed her, but she immediately put this out of her mind. She and Harry both had pivotal roles to play in Voldemort's eventual downfall, while Hermione and Ron did not. It was a very different matter for him to be accompanied by them than it was for him to be accompanied by her.

Later that day, Tamara went back to the Ministry of Magic's library, and after hours scouring the books again (and admitting that she was finding very little of use), she returned home to find that again Elizabeth was already home from work. After eating dinner together, and spending an evening watching television, Tamara retired to bed.

Tamara had her own room in Elizabeth's little apartment. It was small, and sparsely decorated, but it was comfortable. It contained a single bed, beside which was a small beside table. In the far corner was a wardrobe, in which she had stowed her trunk and hung her clothes. On the little table was a simple alarm clock. The two photos Elizabeth had given her had been propped up next to it, and beside the photos lay the rose that Snape had conjured for her, never failing in its loveliness and showing no signs of wilting.

She climbed into bed, wearing her usual comfortable flannelette pyjamas, but she lay awake in the dark for what seemed like hours after Elizabeth had fallen asleep in the room next door. During the day she could keep herself busy, but she dreaded the nights when there was nothing to stop the constant whir of thoughts in her mind.

All of a sudden there was a loud 'pop'; the unmistakeable sign of an apparating wizard. Startled, Tamara immediately leapt out of bed, threw on the light and grabbed her wand. The intruder was none other than Severus Snape, returning to her at last. Utterly relieved, Tamara's heart did a back flip and she dropped her wand, throwing her arms around him. He held her tightly, pulling her into a desperately passionate kiss. He had missed her as much as she had missed him. When they finally separated, Tamara turned to lower the lights using the room's dimmer switch and sat on the edge of the bed. Snape followed her example and sat beside her.

**((**"How did you know where to find me?" Tamara asked incredulously, lowering her voice to keep from disturbing Elizabeth, who was asleep next door. He let out a deep breath of air, and wearily recalled a memory that until now he had been reluctant to revisit.

"Professor Dumbledore guessed that you might come here." He told her. "We had a conversation a few days prior to your confrontation with the Dark Lord. He told me that he believed his time was growing short; that the darkness was close to claiming him, and he thought it necessary to pass on some final details. Your possible movements at the close of the school year were among those details. You were important to him. He wanted to ensure that I would be able to continue helping you wherever possible. At the time I had greeted his words with scepticism. I was concerned about your reaction to my task. As always, he knew better, and you taught me an important lesson in trust." At that, he reached out to squeeze her hand, but after a moment he seemed to realise what he had done and let her hand go again, gazing at her as though he were ashamed that he hadn't sought her permission first.

Tamara wished that she could have kept her hand safely within his, but nonetheless she turned her attention toward a serious consideration of his words. Even in death Dumbledore's infinite wisdom hadn't failed. But even so, another thought began to take hold of her, producing a barrage of questions that she suddenly realised she wanted to have answered. "I don't understand." She said, frowning. "My mother cast a concealment charm to hide Elizabeth. How did he know where she was?"

Snape shot her a sudden curious expression. "Your Mother didn't cast the concealment charm, Tamara. The charm was Professor Dumbledore's creation." He paused, wondering how best to explain. The information was delicate. "Your Mother was killed shortly after learning of the deaths of her family. Elizabeth was fortunate to survive the attack because she was at school at the time. I believe Professor Dumbledore cast the charm that same day."

Tamara looked down-trodden, and made a mental note to ask Elizabeth about her experiences following the loss of their family. "I don't suppose anyone could have told me all this? Surely I deserved to know that I had a living relative."

"Professor Dumbledore had his reasons. He wanted to see if you could determine the workings of the charm for yourself." Snape's voice was matter of fact.

After a long awkward moment of silence, Tamara finally nodded her acceptance of Snape's explanation. It was all so much to digest.

The one thing that she was entirely thankful for, though, was the fact that she was able to be his company at all. Threading her arm through his, she gazed up at him. "I'm so glad to see you. It's been so long. I've been so worried about you."**))**

"I apologise." He said, patting her arm awkwardly for a moment before relaxing enough to enjoy the notion that she had willingly brought herself closer to him. "I wanted to contact you sooner, but to do so would have risked blowing my cover and it is imperative, now more than ever, that I retain the Dark Lord's trust."

She nodded in understanding. "Is it safe now, though?" She asked. "You said you would return in safer days. Does that mean I'll get to see you more often?" Tamara knew that it was probably unwise to bombard him with questions, since Snape was a man who always seemed to work at his own pace. But she couldn't help herself. There was so much she wanted to know.

As was expected, he raised a hand to shush her, and took a moment to consider her questions before deciding on the answers that he would give her. "I fear that true safety will elude us until the day the Dark Lord ceases to draw breath, Tamara. My time up until now has been spent in seeing to Mr Malfoy's wellbeing. The Dark Lord wasn't pleased that I had to fulfil his task for him." He eventually told her.

"Draco's okay then?" Tamara asked, remembering her conversation with Juliet.

"Do you have some special interest in him?" Snape asked, surprised at her concern for Draco.

"Yes, but not for my sake. There's someone at Hogwarts who will be glad to see him again one day." Tamara explained.

Snape went on. "My time up to now has almost completely been spent in the Dark Lord's company. It has been tiring. Tonight presented my first opportunity to leave his side, but I do not know how many of these opportunities I will get."

Tamara was disappointed, but she remembered that he had warned her it might be like this. It was just one more reason for her to keep fighting, which brought her to her next query.

"Listen, I've been trying to do some research. It's about all I can do until I can work magic after I come of age next week, but without information on what Voldemort's up to it's going nowhere."

Snape grimaced at hearing the name. Many witches and wizards didn't like to hear it, but for them the reason was fear. Snape's reason was very different, having personally witnessed the horrors that came with being in Voldemort's inner circle. "There have been whispers of a new plan, and if he has been forthcoming with the details then I have certainly not been privy to the information. Perhaps he has his doubts about me. I will do what I can, Tamara, as I did in my role as spy for the Order, but it is imperative that I do what I can to retain his trust. If I lose his trust, I will ultimately be of little help to you, and your cause will become almost impossible to fulfil."

Snape's lack of information was even more disappointing. It looked like she would, indeed, have to spend the rest of her week embarking in directionless library research, and hoping that Snape would be able to win Voldemort's trust once more and gain more information about his new plans in the process.

Snape stood up and after looking around at Tamara's room for a moment he noticed the bedside table on which lay the rose that he had charmed for her. His fingers lightly traced the petals and the corners of his mouth turned up in an ever so slight smile. Then his eyes found the two photographs. He picked up the photo of Tamara's Mother and looked at it for a long time.

"Did you know her very well?" Tamara asked.

He shook his head. "I only met her once, but Professor Dumbledore spoke of her on many occasions." He turned to look at Tamara. "She was like you in many ways; fiery, yet knowledgeable and strong. I remember she struck me as quite obstinate, which didn't sit with me very well. But she fought a noble fight, and she was pure of heart. Professor Dumbledore once said that it surprised him how much she seemed to see in people." Snape put the photo back in its place. "You always struck me as a quiet achiever, though you have the same emotional temperament that she did. You seem to express it differently, though, and I've never quite been able to place it. You have a greater capacity for control when you apply yourself."

Tamara was fascinated. She had never heard anyone reminisce about her and her Mother in such a keenly detailed way. Even Elizabeth had only been a child when she had known Rosalyn. Tamara was hungry to know more, and the difference that Snape saw between her and her Mother interested her greatly. "Do you think I'm different because of my Father?" She asked, suddenly remembering what Voldemort had said to her. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I couldn't say, without knowing his identity. Only Professor Dumbledore knew that she even had a daughter. Do you actually know who he is?" Snape asked.

Tamara pulled a face. "I don't, and you make that sound like a terrible thing."

"I didn't mean it that way, and you know it." Snape shot back at her. After a moment, he took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet, settling his hands on her waist. "Up until last year you had no idea that you were even adopted, or have you forgotten your adopted family?"

"Of course not." She said, fighting back a blush as she realised with shame that she wasn't as lacking in family as she felt she was.

Snape's expression softened as he gazed deeply into her eyes. Suddenly she found her heart beating faster, and her knees trembled. It was such a keen and penetrating gaze that she couldn't help but feel shaken to the core. She loved how utterly connected she felt to him in the moments when he looked at her that way. No-one had ever made her feel that way before, and before she knew what was happening, their lips had met in another kiss.

For a time they simply enjoyed being in each other's company, no longer needing to talk and feeling utterly comfortable together. At one point Tamara noticed that he seemed to be lost in thought, though there was no tension in his expression. Feeling fatigue creep up on her, though, she simply allowed herself to fall asleep in his embrace.

#

The next morning Tamara awoke with a smile, though when she sat up she noticed at once that Snape had gone. It only took a moment for her eyes to find a new enchanted rose lying beside the original one on top of the bedside table, though, and her disappointment melted away. She had no idea when she would see him again, but he had returned to her even if only for a night and she would cherish that.


	19. Coming of Age

**Author Note:**

Thanks to Holly and Wendy Waddles for more reviews. I'm glad to see you've started thinking about the possible identity of Tamara's birth father. All I will say is that it is not Snape or Dumbledore (these are two possibilities that have been suggested already), and that it is a surprise and you will have to wait and see! [Insert evil grin here]

To answer another question that has been coming up; no I won't be sticking too closely with Deathly Hallows. And rest assured that I won't be killing Snape or Tamara at the end. Well, that's it for my hints :) The rest you will have to wait and see to find out.

Oh and Holly, no it's not a superstitious thing posting on Friday the 13th. Friday is my chapter posting day, and this time just happened to be the 13th.

PS: I added two paragraphs in - enclosed in bolded double brackets.

_Next chapter will be posted on Friday next week_ (Australian western standard time).

**Chapter****19 – Coming of Age**

Tamara's birthday arrived one week after her unexpected meeting with Snape. She hadn't seen him, or heard from him since. Although she hadn't expected to, it cast a heaviness over her heart that she had received no word from him to say that he was thinking of her on her most important birthday, for this day was the day that she turned 17; her coming of age.

For a time, she simply lay in bed turning thoughts over in her mind. Not only would she be without Snape on her birthday, but she would also be without her friends. She missed them dearly, but could think of nothing that would help repair the damage that had driven such a sharp wedge between them.

Finally, there was a knock at her bedroom door and Elizabeth entered. Having just arrived home from a night shift at the hospital, Elizabeth was still wearing her uniform and presently carried with her a tray laden with bacon, toast, muesli, tea and orange juice. She had obviously gone to a lot of trouble. Tamara sat up and smiled at her thoughtful cousin. Elizabeth placed the tray on the bed in front of Tamara, who immediately began to tuck in.

"I'm so glad you came to stay, Tamara." Elizabeth said, accepting the slice of toast and bacon that Tamara offered her. "It's been amazing meeting my long lost cousin. I only wish you could stay longer. I'll miss you when you go back to school in a couple of weeks."

Tamara immediately froze. She hadn't told her cousin that she wasn't going back to school. With a startling thought, she realised that she hadn't told her adopted Mother either, and her reaction wasn't likely to be pleasant. Not only this, but where would she stay? She could hardly go back home. The Edgecombe household was situated in the country, miles away from any wizarding communities, rendering it completely useless if she hoped to accomplish anything that would eventually contribute to the war effort. The logical solution was to stay in London, but though Elizabeth was family Tamara felt uneasy about encroaching on her any further. Taking a deep breath Tamara slowly confessed.

"I've decided not to go back to school." She said. Silence fell over the room and Elizabeth gazed at her with surprise.

"Your parents don't know, do they?" Elizabeth eventually said. Tamara shook her head.

Whether Elizabeth was disappointed in her Tamara couldn't tell, but seeing Elizabeth's quizzical expression told her that it was time to explain the truth about the legacy that she had inherited from Rosalyn. Tamara explained everything; she told Elizabeth about the conversation she'd had with the Headmaster about Tamara's heritage, and the history lesson Jez had remembered which had included Rosalyn's famous duels with the evil wizard, Voldemort, and his thirst for her power. She explained that she herself had been kept a secret in the hopes of avoiding detection by Voldemort. She told Elizabeth that Voldemort had finally found out about her a couple of months ago and that he had abused Thalia's gift in order to compel her to go to him. She told Elizabeth about her meeting with Voldemort and her lucky escape thanks to the smidgen of extra training she'd had at school. She explained about the war, and how the Headmaster had died in those last days of term because of the war, and she told Elizabeth that she, along with Harry, had decided to leave Hogwarts in order to pursue a means to end the war and destroy Voldemort once and for all, all the while leaving Snape out of the story as much as she could.

Elizabeth's face was horror stricken as Tamara finally finished her tale. But although it was a lot to take in, Elizabeth didn't beg and plead Tamara to give up her mission. Instead she took Tamara's hand and looking her straight in the eye said "I don't think I need to tell you that I'm scared to death at the thought of you being in such dangerous situations, but I remember the look on your face when you got off the train from school that day, and every day that you've been here I've seen you carry such determination. I understand that this isn't just a silly whim, and I can appreciate what a big deal this dark wizard is in your world. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but you're still my cousin and I'll do whatever I can to help."

Tamara stared at Elizabeth, goggle-eyed. She had never before experienced the strength that existed in the bonds of blood ties, and the support that Elizabeth was now showing her astounded her beyond all belief.

"If you need a place to stay," Elizabeth went on, "you're more than welcome to stay here for as long as you need to." At this, Tamara flung herself forward and threw her arms around Elizabeth, bits of toast and bacon falling onto the bed as she did so, unable to believe the wonders of family.

"I can't thank you enough, Elizabeth. Having your support means everything to me." Tamara told her, earnestly.

Elizabeth smiled and reached forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Tamara's ear. "It's what families are for." She said. "And after all, I'm part of the family line that's at centre of this war. If anything I can do will possibly help, then I'll do it in a heartbeat."

Tamara smiled back, gratefully, at her wonderful cousin. But there was one more thing she wanted to ask. Ever since the night that Snape had returned to her, she had wanted to ask Elizabeth what had happened to her after Voldemort had cruelly snatched their family away. During the course of the week, Tamara had come close to broaching the subject several times, but for some reason she had shied away at the last moment. At present, however, it seemed that there would never be a more appropriate moment to ask than now.

"Elizabeth, what happened to you after...?" Her words trailed off. Elizabeth was gazing at her intently, and Tamara knew she didn't have to explain. Elizabeth knew what she was asking.

"I was ten years old when it happened." Elizabeth began, staring down at her hands which were now folded in her lap. "I was at school and an old man with very long beard came to talk to me. The teachers seemed to know him, so they let him take me outside. He told me that he was a friend of Aunt Rosalyn's, and he had a funny name. I recognised it because I heard Rosalyn say it a few times."

"Dumbledore." Tamara offered, without thinking.

Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. "Yeah, that was it. How did you know?"

"He was the Headmaster of my school who I was telling you about. He was the one who told me about my Mother and my heritage. He was the one who died at the end of the school year." Tamara told her, reminiscently.

Elizabeth looked crestfallen and took Tamara's hand in hers. "Oh Tamara, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." Tamara replied. "So what did he tell you?" She prompted.

"He sat me down and told me as tactfully as he could that my family had been killed by some terrible people." Elizabeth explained. "He was so nice to me. I remember he hugged me when I cried, and somehow I just felt really safe, like nothing could happen to me while he was around." She mused.

Tamara smiled, wistfully. "He was a wise and powerful wizard. We all felt safe when he was there to protect us."

Elizabeth smiled back and turned her thoughts back to her story. "He took me out of school and to a house I'd never seen before. He explained that the people there were going to be my foster parents, and that my belongings were there already. He spoke to them for a while, as I got settled in, but he left not long after that and it was years before I saw him again. I stayed with my foster parents right up until I finished high school. I remember seeing him briefly at my graduation but he disappeared before I could talk to him and I haven't seen him since. Right after that I started working and got this place. It was in terrible condition at the time so I got it cheap, but it's been renovated since, so at least now it's comfortable. Of course, I also completed nursing training, and here I am."

Tamara's first thought was that it had to have been during Dumbledore's two visits that he cast the concealment charms on Elizabeth. The first when she moved in with her foster parents, and the second when she moved into her flat. At that moment, she noticed that Elizabeth was watching her.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked, gentle concern lacing her voice.

"I'm fine. It's just something I was wondering about, that's all." Tamara replied, in a quiet voice. Elizabeth understood. It was a painful subject, especially when you were learning so much in such a short space of time about a family you never knew you had before. It was no wonder that it had been weighing on Tamara's mind.

To try and inject some joy back into Tamara's morning, Elizabeth passed her a large parcel that was wrapped in glittery paper, along with a birthday card and another small package that seemed to have arrived by post. Tamara broke out in a grin and excitedly she tore off the glittery paper that covered the larger parcel. Inside the package were some elegant and becoming black outfits, a large bar of chocolate and an expensive looking crystal teddy bear figurine.

"As I understand it, 17 is the important birthday in the wizarding world, instead of 18." Elizabeth said. "I know this isn't much, but I hope this is okay for your coming of age."

Tamara smiled, widely. "This is amazing! Thank you so much!" With that she threw her arms around Elizabeth again. Tamara opened the birthday card next. The cover was adorned with a picture of two small girls sitting hand in hand on a large swing seat in the woods. Inside was an inscription from her cousin; "_with love on your seventeenth birthday, from Elizabeth xxx"_. Tamara immediately propped the card up on the bedside table beside her two photographs. The crystal teddy was placed next to the two roses that Snape had previously given her, and the clothes were folded neatly and placed at the end of the bed so that they didn't get crumpled. The chocolate, however, was opened straight away. Breaking it into sections, Tamara shared it with an eager Elizabeth as she reached for the small post parcel.

When Tamara saw the familiar Hogwarts crest on the envelope her heart skipped a beat and she suddenly remembered that today was the day that she'd hand in to the Ministry the form that would excuse her from her final year of study. Upon opening the parcel, a letter fell out along with another smaller parcel. Tamara reached for the letter first. It was a short note from Professor McGonagall, explaining that Dumbledore had asked her, shortly before his death, to send her the included package on her 17th birthday. Tamara put the letter aside and feeling a sudden seriousness she turned to the package. Inside there was another note and a small golden key. Tamara recognised Dumbledore's handwriting on the note immediately and her breath caught in her throat. Dumbledore's final words to her explained that Rosalyn had given him the key before her death with the instruction to pass it on to her daughter when she came of age. The key, evidently, was the key to Rosalyn's vault at Gringotts bank, which would leave her with more than enough money to live a comfortable life. Tamara immediately passed the note to Elizabeth to read as she threaded the key on to the necklace that also contained her amulet.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I always wondered what happened to her estate when she died." Her cousin mused, handing the note back to Tamara.

After they had finished breakfast, Elizabeth decided to catch up on some sleep seeing as she had just finished a night shift, so Tamara was left to her own devices. Tamara didn't mind too much about this. Today would be a day for important errands, including submitting the form that would release her from formal schooling, meaning that a trip to the Ministry of Magic would be first on her agenda.

#

Later that morning, Tamara stepped out of one of the Ministry's elevators, having arrived at the education department. Like the foyer, much of the department was grandiose; an overwhelming display of wealth. It was markedly different from the Ministry's neglected library. Tamara tried to ignore the extravagance and followed the sign posts as she moved through the many corridors. Finally, she arrived at the education department's administrative centre. A large desk stood in the centre of the room, and a long line of people were sat waiting to be seen. Tamara joined the end of the queue and took a seat, clutching the release form in her hand.

After nearly an hour of waiting, Tamara was finally called to the desk by a severe looking witch. Apprehensively, Tamara handed the form to the witch, explaining that she wanted to discontinue her N.E.W.T. studies. The witch thrust the form back at Tamara and directed her to a door that lay behind the desk. Through the door was another waiting room that was again full of waiting witches and wizards, some with children in tow. Tamara sighed at the prospect of another long wait. But to her surprise, no sooner had she sat down, than she was being called into an office.

Inside the office sat an extremely old wizard who looked like it took him an extraordinarily long time to do anything. He told her in a low wheezing voice to take a seat. Tamara obliged and passed him the form, once more trying to explain her circumstances. He took the form and held it very close to his face as he slowly tried to take in its words. To her dismay, the wizard also seemed to be hard of hearing, so she had to repeat herself several times to make herself understood. When finally he showed a glimmer of understanding he began the slow process of asking her for her reasons. Tamara resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and embarked on the painful mission of explaining herself. In itself this wasn't easy, considering that she couldn't very well come out and say that she was plotting Voldemort's downfall while Harry searched for Voldemort's horcruxes, and the task was made all the more difficult by the wizard's unfortunate hearing problem. Eventually, however, the wizard seemed satisfied and slowly and deliberately reached for a quill in order to sign the parchment. Relieved, Tamara thanked the wizard and left the office.

#

That afternoon, Tamara decided to take a trip to Diagon Alley to take a well earned break from research. To her surprise, Tamara realised that she had been free to perform magic all day without realising it. This meant that she was now able to think about what her next move should be, which she decided she would do while enjoying one of Florean Fortescue's icecream sundaes. But that would have to wait a while. The next errand that was on her agenda was a visit to her Mother's vault at Gringotts bank.

In many ways, the architecture used to construct Gringotts reminded Tamara of the Ministry of Magic building. Gringotts was large and displayed considerable wealth. But here there was a magic in the air that Tamara felt in no other place, not even Hogwarts. Sheer power crackled in the air, and it was fearsome. This was not a place to be underestimated. The goblins that were in charge were taken seriously by all and there weren't many who were audacious enough to attempt to bypass the bank's security systems. Tamara passed the threshold and entered the cavernous hall filled with an awe and respect that she hadn't felt in the Ministry.

The goblin's efficiency meant that the queues moved quickly, and before long she was being ushered into a small railway cart, accompanied by a stocky little goblin. The cart hurtled through the lamp lit stone hallways at breakneck speed, leaving Tamara with little time to process the journey. She clutched the key and her amulet tightly to her chest, where they lay hanging on their shared chain. A moment later, the cart came to a screeching halt and the goblin was already stepping out. Tamara took a deep breath and shakily followed suit, stepping out of the cart and onto the stone floor. She gave her key to the goblin who unlocked the large heavy door in front of them and stood back to allow her entry. When Tamara saw the contents she knew that Dumbledore hadn't exaggerated when he had said that her monetary inheritance would allow her to live a considerably comfortable life. Feeling a sense of numbness creep over her at the idea that she was standing in her Mother's vault, in a place Rosalyn had visited on numerous occasions, she stepped forward to fill her money bag.

Ever since she had discovered the truth about her adoption and the magical legacy she had inherited, Tamara had never once considered that she would one day come into possession of her Mother's money. The idea was incredibly humbling and she felt her body begin to tremble at the feeling of having received such a generous gift from the woman who had given her life.

Taking another deep breath, she left the vault and followed the goblin back into the cart for another adrenaline filled ride back to the main foyer. She spent the rest of the day exploring the shops in Diagon Alley and even wandered into the apothecary out of nostalgia, finding herself stocking up on various potion ingredients without thinking. As the day wore into afternoon, Tamara ended the day with the trip to Florean Fortescue's icecream parlour, as she had promised herself.

A few minutes later, she was sitting outside in the sun, enjoying a chocolate covered sundae when all of a sudden a loud explosion rocked the alley. In an instant, chaos had ensued. People were screaming and scrambling to leave Diagon Alley as soon as they could. Tamara leapt from her seat, wand out in an instant and saw thick black smoke billowing from behind Gringotts. Fighting against the crowd, she ran toward the source of the smoke and soon came across several death eaters who were locked in duels with some of the braver witches and wizards who had chosen to stay and defend the alley. Tamara soon found herself caught up in the midst of the battle, with one of the death eaters rounding on her.

**((**Facing a death eater was a very different experience from facing Voldemort and she was wholly unprepared for it. Though her natural talents allowed her to hold her own, she had none of the power that had wounded her nemesis all those months ago and Tamara realised that she still had a long way to go before she could fully control the power that she had inherited. A whisper in the back of her mind reminded her of the roller coaster of emotions and challenges that had taken place at the time. She had been preparing for the terrifying ordeal of facing Voldemort, she and Snape had barely revealed their feelings for each other and scarcely had any time to share, and then there was the added weight of the task he had refused to tell her about and his apparent betrayal. In the moment it had mattered the most, she had been forced to evaluate her trust and her feelings and in the end her trust in him won out. It had been her trust and her love for him that had ultimately enabled her access to her innate power that had wounded Voldemort. The power of love was something that Voldemort would never understand.

Those situations, however, now belonged to the past and a very different motivation fuelled her now. She knew she needed to stay and fight. That was unquestionable. But her inability to once more access the great well of power that Voldemort had been so desperate to steal was utterly frustrating. Instinctively, she reached for her amulet. It was warm to touch, but even so its power lay dormant. Trying to focus, she recalled the coaching sessions she'd had with Snape the previous year. Just as he'd taught her, she took a deep breath and tried to draw the power that flowed through her. But she was tired. Oh so tired. So much had happened and her energy was waning. It was becoming increasingly difficult to draw on her magic. She had no further time to think about, though. In an instant, the death eater had fired a jet of red light toward, and any time she'd had to gather herself was now gone. She would have to do her best to fight with the spells she had learnt at school and hope it was enough.**))**

The jet of light caught her on the arm, leaving a large and nasty burn. In an instant, she fired back, shooting jets of ice back toward the death eater, who nearly dropped his wand when his hands froze over. After a long painful moment, he managed to dispel the curse and responded with a curse of his own. This time Tamara was hit with a strange curse she had never experienced before. In an instant, she felt blood begin to trickle down her face, drip from her hands and stain her clothes. Horrified, she composed herself enough to shoot back a jet of blue light, which distracted the death eater for a moment while she turned her attention back to the strange blood that was beginning to coat her body. When it occurred to her that there seemed to be no actual injuries causing the bleeding, she realised that it was all just a simple illusion, and she was able to remove it without much difficulty.

The duel continued on in this manner for while, but try as they might nothing could deter the death eaters from their mission. Tamara and the handful of Diagon Alley shoppers who had remained to fight were no match for them as their ranks continued to swell, and when their injuries steadily became more serious it was clear that the time had come for them to make their retreat. Tamara was joined by a haggard looking witch who had proven to be a more powerful battler than she appeared to be, and together they attempted to distract the death eaters long enough for the others to remove those who had been critically injured. When finally the last of the injured were gone, the witch lunged for Tamara, grabbed her arm and promptly disapparated outside of Diagon Alley.

Her breathing ragged, Tamara thanked the witch for her help and after assuring the witch that she was okay and didn't need to be taken to St Mungo's to be checked over, she was finally free return to the relative safety of Elizabeth's apartment. She was weary, robbed of energy, her muscles ached, and cuts and burns stung her skin. She decided that a long hot bath would be in order. As soon as she opened the front door, however, she heard voices sail through to the hallway from the dining room. Frozen to the spot, she realised that the voices belonged to her adopted parents and she felt her stomach promptly drop to her boots. It seemed that her bath would have to wait. Quickly exchanging her clothes for a fresh pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt to hide some of the more obvious injuries, she wearily headed out into the dining room to join the others.

Elizabeth beamed at her. "I invited your parents for dinner with us. I thought you'd like to see them on your birthday." She said. Tamara forced a smile, appreciative of Elizabeth's considerable effort, but dismayed at the incredibly bad timing of the death eater's raid.

"Happy birthday, darling." Alison gushed, rushing forward to hug Tamara, followed by John. She was surprised to see her adoptive father, considering that he had frequently been absent from most of the significant events in her life. Timidly, she reached forward to receive his hug, trying desperately not to wince as he unknowingly pressed his hand into one of the more painful burns that lay beneath her sleeve.

"How was your day, Tamara? Elizabeth tells us that you went to Diagon Alley. Did you get your new things for school?" He asked her as they all sat down at the dining table. Tamara felt the bottom fall out of her stomach at the thought of explaining to her parents that she wasn't returning to school. For a brief moment Elizabeth caught her eyes, understanding Tamara's predicament.

"I'm not going back to school this year." Tamara said. It seemed easier just to blurt it out. Everyone at the table froze and an uncomfortable silence filled the air.

"What do you mean, you're not going back to school?" Alison finally asked, a note of incredulity piercing her voice. Tamara didn't know what to say. Dancing around the truth about the death eater raid was difficult enough. How on earth would she explain why she couldn't return to school? In the end, it was Elizabeth who came to her rescue.

"Tamara's been through so much in the last year. I think she really needed a break." Elizabeth explained.

"I think working in London for a while will do me good." Tamara added, cottoning on to Elizabeth's train of thought.

Alison didn't look pleased. "You really should have discussed this with us, Tamara. I just don't think it's a good idea for you disregard your education like that."

"The legal requirement is achieving O.W.L. level, which I've done, and I'm old enough to legally decide whether I want to take a break from my studies." Tamara explained, pleadingly. After the harrowing events in Diagon Alley she had felt exhausted, but with the added difficulty of the present conversation it was all she could do to keep the strain from consuming her completely. To her surprise, John looked her straight in the eye and gave her a sympathetic look.

"No one should have to go through the things that Tamara's been through this year. The poor girl is exhausted. She really does look like she needs a break. Education is important, but it won't do her any good if she ends up having a nervous collapse like she did at the end of her O.W.L. exams. I don't want to see that happen again." He suddenly said.

Tamara stared at him, incredulously. Her adoptive father had never really had much of a presence in her life. He was always away, or too busy to notice her. To hear him not only stand up for her, but actually show sympathy and caring had caught her completely off-guard.

Reluctantly, Alison agreed with John and the subject was dropped. Dinner that evening ended up being a quiet affair, punctuated only with idle small talk, until finally John announced that it was time for them to leave and begin the long drive back to their home in the country. As they hugged each other goodbye, Alison pressed a birthday gift into Tamara's hands and kissed her on the cheek. "I hope you like it, sweetheart." She whispered.

After they had left, Tamara sat in the lounge with Elizabeth as she opened her birthday present. It was a gold watch that not only told the date and time, but also showed latitude and longitude, and gave precise astronomical readings. Among magic-folk, it was an expensive trinket. She smiled in spite of her exhaustion and emotional tension.

For the rest of the evening, Tamara sat curled up on the couch with Elizabeth, watching a movie on television, all the while wishing that the movie would end so she could retreat to her bedroom and vent her emotions. Her coming of age had not been the day she had hoped for. With a tense family dinner, a lack of friends, and a death eater raid, it had been a tiring day. What made it worse was that she still hadn't heard from Snape either. She understood what his position as a spy entailed, but surely he could at least have sent her a note on her seventeenth birthday?

When finally the movie finished, Tamara announced that she was going to bed. Elizabeth followed her example and also decided to retire for the night, and a relieved Tamara was left to retreat to her bedroom. To her surprise, Snape was sitting on her bed, reading one of her defensive strategy books by wand-light. In her shock, she nearly dropped her new watch and burst into tears. Snape had not expected this and wasn't entirely sure how to react. He looked on, feeling more than a little awkward as she blurted it all out.

"I feel so alone, Severus. It's my birthday and my friends hate me, I have no idea what to do about Voldemort, I got caught in the middle of a death eater raid in Diagon Alley, dinner with my adopted parents was a disaster, and I didn't think I'd get to see you." She sobbed.

Although he was unpractised in dealing with emotional outbursts, seeing her so upset tugged at his heartstrings. Wishing he could take away all of her burdens, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm here now. Everything's okay." He whispered, as she buried her face in his shoulder and clung to him.

When at last her tears began to subside, he pulled her toward the bed and sat her down, conjuring a glass of water for her with his wand. "I'm sorry you got caught in the raid, Tamara." He said, as she sipped at the water. "I tried to warn you but by the time I was able to get away from my post it was too late. The Dark Lord has been recruiting new Death Eaters, and I have been given the task of training them. I couldn't get away in time."

"I just wish it didn't have to happen on my birthday." Tamara complained, dejectedly.

"I know. I wish I could take it all away. Tamara. You carry a burden that no-one should have to bear." His eyes caught hers, which were shining in the low light. It struck him that even though she felt such sadness, she lost none of her beauty. "Were you injured in the raid?" He asked, gently.

She didn't answer. Instead she rolled up her sleeves, and pulled her top up slightly to reveal her stomach. Burns had appeared sporadically on her skin. His face contorted in an ugly expression. "Dawlish's handywork." He remarked. "I'll break his neck."

"Oh don't do that." She suddenly pleaded. "You'll give yourself away."

He said nothing, but his eyes blazed fiercely. He clearly wasn't happy that Dawlish had hurt her. Taking out his wand once more, he began to utter a quiet Latin incantation as he traced her scars with his wand. He spent a considerable amount of time repeating this action, until all of her scars had finally disappeared. Gratefully, she kissed him on the cheek.

Unwittingly, his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. The tenderness and affection in that simple action was very different from the passion and heat of a kiss on the lips. Even as a child, simple affection had been missing from his life, so he was wholly unprepared for what it would feel like when he received it from her.

"Are you blushing, Professor?" She managed to joke, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in a smirk.

"It will have to be our little secret." He told her, returning her smirk. "I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

She smiled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders for the first time all day. It was a gift to him to see the light return to her eyes. At that, he drew a small package out of his pocket and presented it to her. A look of surprise flickered in her eyes as she accepted it.

"What's this for?" She asked.

"I couldn't very well miss your birthday now could I?" He told her, a smile playing about his lips. "Why don't you open it?"

Following his suggestion, she began to tear into the silver wrapping to reveal a small box. Inside the box was a gold necklace, from which hung a pendant; a little golden snake bent to form the shape of a love heart. Her breath caught in her throat. It was exquisite.

"I know you wear your Mother's amulet, but I thought..." He began, but she cut him off with swift kiss on the lips.

"It's beautiful, Severus. I love it!" She exclaimed, earnestly. His concerned expression softened and he took the necklace out of the box and fastened it around her neck. The pendant sat just above her amulet, so that both could easily be seen. She smiled, radiantly, overwhelmed at the breathtaking gift. "Thank you so much." She told him, leaning forward and sinking into another kiss.

Kissing him was like nothing she had ever felt before. True, she didn't have a wealth of experience to compare it to, but she knew the way he made her feel. When they kissed it was like the rest of the world disappeared, and fire shot through every inch of her body. It was as though an infinite song played in her heart. She was utterly connected to him, and in the midst of the passion of their kiss, it was almost as though they melted into one another. She had never felt so utterly safe and so completely loved as when she was lost in his kisses.

When they finally broke apart, he settled back amongst the pillows and she moved to curl up beside him, laying her head on his chest. It was rather cramped on her small bed, but as long as she was in his arms, she didn't care.

"Why did the Death Eaters raid Diagon Alley?" She suddenly found herself asking. He didn't appear to be surprised at her question.

"The Dark Lord required a place to hide something. Gringotts Bank seemed to be the most secure place, so he chose the Alley as his territory and instructed some of the Death Eaters to take over. I can't speculate on his reasons why, or what it is he wants to hide. I doubt he has shared the full details of his plan with any of his minions. He is treating it with the utmost importance." Snape explained.

"There's only one way to find out." She said. He turned to look at her, apprehension flashing in his eyes. "I have to go back there and try to find out what they're hiding." She told him, certainty lining her voice.

"If you choose to go ahead with this plan, you must promise me not to be seen, or not to do anything that will attract attention. This will be a fact finding mission only, do you understand?" The truth was that he was afraid for her. Even though he knew that she could hold her own (after all not many could stand up to Dawlish the way she had today), it didn't make the mission any less dangerous and he couldn't help but fear for her. Part of him wanted to tell her not to go, but in his heart he knew better. They all had their parts to play for the war, and they all had to take risks if there would ever be any hope of one day destroying the Dark Lord once and for all.

"I promise I will be careful." She said. "Any sign of movement and I will get out of there straight away, I promise."

Snape seemed to be satisfied with this and pulled her closer, stroking her hair. This, of course, progressed to another passionate kiss, each of them wanting to make the most of the limited amount of time they had together.

**Author Note:**** You didn't think I'd really let Snape miss her birthday did you? Come on, I'm not that mean! Haha!**


	20. Fact Finding

**Author Note:**

Thanks to Holly & Wendy Waddles – my faithful readers :) and also to KatieBellxplayer for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much. Holly, the main reason I wrote her in the fight scene that way is because I don't want to make her a mary sue, and also if she could just snap her fingers and win battles all the time then there wouldn't be much of an story either. I added a clarification paragraph into the last chapter to explain what was happening to her, as I don't want to take up too much room by explaining here.

Next chapter will be posted, as usual, next Friday – the 27th of August. Thanks for reading :)

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Fact Finding**

_~ He that endures for what his conscience _

_knows not to be ill, Doth from a patience high _

_Look only on the cause whereto he owes _

_Those sufferings, - not on his miseries. _

_The more he endures, the more his glory grows, _

_Which never grows from imbecility. _

_Only the best composed and worthiest hearts _

_God sets to act the hardest constantest parts ~ _

_- Samuel Daniel_

It was still dark when Tamara woke the next morning. Sitting up, she stretched and wondered why her muscles ached when she realised that she was still snuggled up to Snape in her cramped little single bed. Tamara felt both surprised and relieved at seeing that he was still with her this time, and she even gave his hand a shy squeeze just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Snape, for the present moment, remained deep in slumber and so Tamara snuggled back down beside him, relishing the feel of being wrapped up in his warmth.

She lay awake for another twenty minutes, watching the alarm clock as the minutes slowly passed until Snape began to shift in the bed beside her, finally awakening and extricating himself from the bed sheets, apparently unaware that she was no longer asleep. Tamara knew in an instant what this meant. It had obviously been his intention to leave before she woke again.

"Do you really have to go so soon?" She asked, her voice permeating the darkness.

He looked back at her in surprise as she rose to a sitting position and shot her a sympathetic look. "I'm afraid so."

She shuffled toward the edge of the bed, kicking the duvet out of the way. Reaching forward he lifted her up. Holding her by the waist, he simply gazed at her, drinking in the emotion that shone in her eyes.

She pressed her body as close to his as she dared, unwilling to be parted from him. While his visits were worth more than all the galleons in the world to her, their sporadic timing and brief length was torturous. It was becoming increasingly difficult for both of them when the time came to part, which was one of the reasons why Snape had preferred to leave before she awakened. Emotional farewells only made parting all the more harrowing.

She stood on the tips of her toes so that she could more easily reach his lips, and he moaned as she pulled him into a deep kiss. After a moment of once more experiencing the joyous taste of her lips, he pulled away, gazing deep into her eyes with endless regret.

"I really must go, Tamara. _He_ will be waiting." He told her, though his voice was soft. The disappointment in her eyes pierced his heart, and he would have given anything to make her feel happiness again.

"I hate this, Severus." She pouted.

"Not as much I as I, my love." He told her, his dark eyes smouldering. She looked back at him with surprise.

In all of their experiences together, and in all of their confessions of feelings, the "L" word had never really come up. She knew she felt that way about him, and she assumed that he felt the same in return, but neither of them had ever actually declared that fact. Hearing it now made her wonder why, considering the danger they stepped into every day, but even so hearing the declaration form on his lips for the first time felt so much more incredible than she had ever anticipated.

"You love me?" She whispered, suddenly shy.

He looked back at her with surprise, suddenly feeling more than a little uncomfortable. He had said it without thinking, but now that he had he realised that he felt incredibly vulnerable. "I do, Tamara. If I have ever given you cause to doubt that…"

"No, of course not!" She cut in. "It just feels amazing to hear you say it." She blushed.

"And do you?" He asked, pointedly.

"I love you." She told him, gazing deeply into his eyes. A strange sense of relief washed over him at hearing her words, and he regretted the past that made him so distrustful. She alone had stood by him through everything. There should have been no doubt as to how she felt about him.

And so it was with a new level of understanding that Tamara once more allowed herself to be parted from her beloved. He pulled her into a final kiss, but to Tamara's surprise he disapparated before the kiss ended. Though parting was hard, Tamara couldn't help chuckling to herself at the manner of his departure. There were worse ways to part, after all, than parting with a kiss.

* * *

Though Tamara's fact finding mission would involve returning to Diagon Alley, the alley was not the first place she chose to go to when the sun finally rose. Instead, she opted for the library, only this time she knew exactly what she was looking for, and she spent hours poring over magical blueprints of the alley.

The maps could only be viewed once the appropriate incantation was spoken and once revealed, the maps depicted a realistic, three dimensional view of the alley, with glittering images of buildings rising right off the parchment. She pored over the map, examining possible pathways that she could take through the alley, deciding which way would ultimately present the most direct route to Gringotts. For security reasons Gringotts had been designated as unplottable, so its schematics didn't appear on the blueprint. Tamara would be able to examine the diagram of the alley and prepare a number of possible entry points, but she wouldn't truly know what to be prepared for until she was faced with the building itself. Not only this, but she would need to be prepared in her magic as well. She knew she couldn't afford for her power to desert her again the way it had during the fight with the death eaters. It was for this reason that Tamara spent the next few days meditating and practising drawing on her magic, as well as preparing an arsenal of offensive and defensive spells. She didn't anticipate becoming involved in a duel, but she would need to be prepared nonetheless and she would also need a supply of stealth measures.

A strange adrenaline filled her as the day of the mission dawned. This would be her first active task since the research fuelled days that had accompanied the beginning of her stay with Elizabeth. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking all at once. She arrived at the entrance to Diagon Alley expecting to be met with hostility, but she found no-one in sight and the entrance had been completely destroyed. Though it was covered with the usual muggle repelling charms, any witch or wizard could see straight into the Alley. Tamara hesitated before rushing through. Raising her wand, she shot a few sparks at it. The sparks seemed to hit an invisible barrier and began to crackle and pop before fizzling out altogether, leaving behind an acrid smell of burning. She paused, mulling over her thoughts. In the end, she decided on a combination of spells. Under her breathe, she uttered "finite incantatum" and grabbing hold of her amulet she immediately raised a shield around herself and took the opening at a run. Energy crackled against her shield, fiercely, but it didn't harm her and she soon appeared on the other side of the broken entrance.

Relieved, she dropped her shield and took a look at her surroundings. Diagon Alley had been decimated. It was horrifying to see and it looked eerily deserted. Taking care to stay close to the shop walls in order to stay unseen, she carefully edged her way forward. Though the lack of life in the Alley was odd to behold, she had at least expected to meet with some kind of opposition. The curse that had guarded the broken entrance to the Alley had been flimsy at best, and Voldemort's cohorts couldn't be seen anywhere. Tamara didn't like it at all.

Remaining guarded she proceeded through the Alley, glancing into the shops as she passed. Doors had been ripped off hinges, windows had been smashed and objects had been strewn everywhere. As she passed the apothecary, she stopped to search through the scattered potion ingredients, wondering whether anything might come in handy. In the end, though, she decided against the use of makeshift potions. When she spotted _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ across the Alley, however, she had an idea. Dashing towards the now devastated joke shop she flew inside and searched the shelves. It only took a minute to find what she was looking for: Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Thinking that it might come in useful if she needed a quick getaway, she shoved a few packets in her pocket.

As she made to leave, however, a shuffling sound behind her made her pause. Turning back again, senses alerted and wand out, she scoured the shelves to try to locate the source of the noise. After a moment, she spotted a pair of eyes peering at her from behind a bucket of fake wands. In an instant, the eyes had disappeared. Whoever was hiding there was obviously terrified.

Carefully stepping forward, she called out. "Who are you?"

"Please don't hurt me." A man begged, terror and strain punctuating his voice. The man shakily rose to his feet, hands raised in the air in surrender. His appearance was utterly dishevelled. His hair was matted, his clothes were tatty, and he looked in desperate need of food. For the moment, however, she didn't lower her wand.

"How do I know you're not a spy?" She asked, sharply. She had to be sure.

"Please miss, I'm no spy. Spare me, I beg you." Tamara knew that the Death Eaters could employ clever disguises if they had need, but there was something about the fright in the man's eyes that tugged at her heart. Like love, terror wasn't something you could fake. She lowered her wand, though she kept it tightly in her hand, at the ready if she needed it.

"Thank you, miss. Thank you." He said, falling to his knees in front of her.

"What happened to you?" She asked, extending a hand to help him up again. For a moment he seemed unwilling to talk, but with some coaxing, he finally spoke.

"I couldn't get out." He whispered in a low and urgent voice. "I was sleeping behind the bins near one of the cafes and when I woke up it looked like the end of the world. I was trapped miss. They found me and they took me to that big building over there," he said, pointing out of the window towards Gringotts.

This caught her attention. "What did they do to you?" She asked, hurriedly. The man, however, seemed incredibly reluctant. "It was like a living nightmare, miss. I've never felt such pain in my life. Goodness knows how I managed to escape." At this he fell silent, apparently unwilling to say anymore about his terrifying ordeal.

Rubbing her temple, she asked her most important question. "Is there any way inside?"

"All the entrances have been sealed. Ain't no way in there. They've got it locked up tighter than Azkaban." He told her. Suddenly the man hesitated. "There might be one way. A secret passage way. It's dangerous though."

"Will you show me?" She implored, urgently.

"You won't want to go that way, miss." He told her, shaking his head.

"Please show it to me. It's really important that I get inside." She begged. After a moment, the man reluctantly nodded and began to head out of the building that was once home to the Weasley twin's joke shop.

The strange homeless man didn't lead her to Gringotts. In fact he led her straight past it. For a moment, her heart leapt into her throat as she wondered whether she had made a huge mistake in trusting him. She continued to follow him, nonetheless, though she kept her wand out. After several long and anxious moments, the man came to a stop at a small walkway that lay between two shops. Feeling dubious, Tamara peered into the walkway and saw that there was a large wall a short distance in.

"You want me to go in there?" She asked.

He nodded. "That's where I escaped from."

"If you're leading me into a trap, so help me I will find you and hex you to the ends of the earth." She hissed, threateningly. There was no way of knowing what he was leading her into. All she knew was that he was her only hope if she ever wanted to get in Gringotts. She had no choice but to trust him.

At her words, however, the fright reappeared in his eyes and he fell to his knees, clawing at the bottoms of her jeans. "Please miss, it's not a trap. I'm telling the truth, honest I am!"

Pulling away from his grasp, she took a deep breath and slowly made her way into the little walkway. As she neared the wall at the far end, she glanced back over her shoulder. The homeless man was still watching from the main street. Turning back to the wall again, she tentatively reached out her hand. There was no force field, like the one guarding the entrance to Diagon Alley, but the bricks felt warm to touch and there was the unmistakable trace of faint magic there. This had to be some sort of entrance. She wondered for a moment whether it worked in the same way as the gateway to platform 9¾ at Kings Cross Station. Wand in hand, she leaned against the wall. Its magic crackled, but it did not allow her entry. Perhaps there was a password. Wracking her brain for something a Death Eater might use as a password she first tried 'pureblood'. This didn't work and she tried a few more varieties, though with little success.

"Damn it!" She swore, utterly frustrated and grazing her knuckles on the bricks as she threw a half-hearted punch at the wall. Blood glistened on the graze, leaving behind a short trail. All at once the magic crackled to life and the wall disappeared. Disgusted at the apparent way the passage worked, she stepped through and into the darkness of the tunnel that lay beyond.

She walked through the tunnel for an inordinate length of time before it finally came to an end. A large boulder blocked the entrance and peering beyond it revealed a cavernous corridor on the other side. Obviously, the tunnel was designed to be hidden. A sign on the corridor wall told her that she was in the lower levels of Gringotts. Evidently, the homeless man had been telling her the truth. Careful to stay hidden in the shadows, she climbed out from behind the large boulder and into the corridor. But where to go from here? Laying her wand in the palm of her hand, she uttered a quiet incantation and the wand began to spin as it sought out the direction that held the most magical activity. Finally, the wand came to a stop, pointing toward the right end of the corridor. Following her wand's directions, she turned to her right and quietly began to walk the length of the corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a doorway, though to her dismay she found that it was being protected by a patrolling troll who carried a spike laden club. Her first obstacle. Thankfully, the troll hadn't seen her yet, which gave her a few brief moments to consider her next move.

Edging as close as she dared, she directed her wand at the troll. "Confundus" she whispered, but the spell had little effect. Considering that the troll was a great deal larger than an average person, the spell would evidently need a great deal more power behind it in order to work, and for that she would need to be closer. Grasping the amulet at her neck in one hand, and holding her wand out before her with her other hand, she took a deep breath and stepped out to approach the troll at a run. The troll moved toward her, brandishing his club menacingly. Drawing on as much power as she could, she uttered the incantation again and the spell hit just in time to prevent the deadly club from striking her. In an instant, the troll began to scratch his head, completely confused at what had just happened. Wasting no time, she ran past him and toward the door he was guarding.

This door led to yet another corridor. This one, however, was not empty. She watched from the shadows of the doorway as three Death Eaters passed each other, walking in different directions toward their respective destinations. She shrank back, hoping that she wouldn't be seen and wishing she had an invisibility cloak. After a moment of pondering, however, she suddenly realised that she had something that was almost as good.

_Of course!_ She thought to herself, as she quickly delved into her pockets to find the packets of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. As soon as the Death Eaters had disappeared from the corridor, she threw a handful of the powder into the corridor and in an instant it was shrouded in pitch darkness. Once more following the direction her wand indicated she hurried down the corridor, taking care to stay near the walls. There was a tense moment as she collided headlong with someone half way down the corridor, but as the darkness was still utterly impenetrable, the person she had bumped couldn't see who she was.

"Watch where you're going!" A man's voice angrily told her. She didn't reply and the man didn't press the matter. Irritated, he continued on his way, muttering under his breath about the good for nothing goblins tampering with the lanterns again. Deeply relieved, she walked on.

It wasn't long before the corridor came to an end and she came face to face with a large chamber that was being guarded by more Death Eaters. Using the cover of darkness, she shot some sparks behind her with her wand. When the sparks hit a wall somewhere off in the distance bits of it began to crumble and fall away, making an awful noise. At once, the guards stood to attention and moved forward to try and peer into the darkness.

"Who goes there?" One of them shouted in a no nonsense voice. While the guards were distracted, Tamara managed to sneak into the chamber and took shelter behind a large stalagmite that was jutting out the ground. Once she had gained her breath, she carefully peered out from behind the stalagmite. The chamber held many rows of large jars and she didn't recognise the substance that they contained. Upon first glance, it looked like a substance that was somewhere between a liquid and a gas. It was silvery blue in colour and for all intents and purposes it looked beautiful. The feeling that overcame Tamara as she beheld the substance contained in the many jars, however, was not one of awe or wonder. A sickening feeling grew in the pit of her stomach and a sense of dread befell her. Something was wrong with those jars. Very wrong indeed...

* * *

**Author Note:** Not the most exciting chapter in the world, but important nonetheless. Just a note – yes, there is still the unanswered question of why she was able to get into the Alley so easily, and just what is in those jars? Both questions will be answered in time :)


	21. The Journey

**Author Note: **

Thanks to Rachel and the ever faithful Wendy Waddles for your kind reviews. Thanks also to Thatgirlwiththatsmile and ninachr for adding my story to your lists.

As always, the next chapter will be posted next friday. That's the 3rd of September, so to stay tuned!

* * *

**Chapter 21 - The Journey**

_~ Beloved, in what other lives or lands _

_Have I known your lips, your hands _

_Your laughter, brave irreverent. _

_Those sweet excesses I do adore. _

_What surety is there that we will meet again, _

_On other worlds some future time undated? _

_I defy my body's haste. Without the promise of _

_One more sweet encounter, I will not deign to die ~ _

_- Maya Angelou_

Shadows danced on the walls, casting an eerie light across the chamber that made the atmosphere seem even more nightmarish. Tamara took a deep breath to try to clear her head, but the air was shallow and the walls were pressing down on her. The chamber was starting to feel horribly claustrophobic. When the voices of the two guards could be heard returning, she knew it was time to leave. She didn't want to tempt fate by staying for too long. Making a mental note to lodge an enquiry with the Ministry of Magic about getting apparition lessons, she considered her exit strategy. In her pocket were still plenty of packets of Peruvian Instant Darkness powder. She didn't want to use them just yet, though. If she shrouded the chamber in magical darkness too many times it would likely look suspicious and make the journey through the corridors even more difficult. If she used it in the corridor outside the chamber then she might risk missing the door in the darkness. What she needed was another distraction and without thinking she grasped the amulet at her neck for reassurance.

After a moment, she remembered the battle that had taken place in the Alley above. The Death Eater she had faced had cast an odd spell that had created the distracting illusion of blood dripping from her skin. All at once she recalled reading a passage about glamours one Saturday while in the library at Hogwarts researching an assignment for Professor Flitwick's Charms class. "Glamours are an advanced type of charm that creates an illusion, giving the chosen target an appearance which is markedly different from its usual appearance" she recalled reading. Tamara had never attempted to cast a glamour before. It was a charm that was much too advanced for school students. When she had asked, Flitwick had told her that it was largely reserved for those witches and wizards who were in training to become aurors. When she had read about it, the charm sounded ridiculously difficult to cast and so at the time she had given up all thoughts of attempting it. But now she had an idea, and she wondered whether it might be possible. After all, she had done and seen many things in the course of the year that she had never expected before.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to recall the procedure. With an appropriate image in mind, she drew out her wand and uttered a long worded incantation, hoping that she had got the pronunciation right. When the incantation was complete, she aimed her wand at the jars and began a series of complicated wand movements. Nothing happened. Frustrated, she tried again as the guards drew closer to the chamber. This time an odd sort of mist appeared, though it soon vanished. Beginning to panic as she heard the guards just outside the chamber, she once more grasped her amulet and summoned all of her magical energy. To her incredible surprise, and utter relief, this time it worked. The image of a Death Eater appeared in front of the jars. When the guards re-entered the chamber they immediately began to walk towards the illusion. Thinking that her illusion was a real Death Eater, one of the guards addressed it.

"Have you got the next one ready?" He asked, in a gravely voice. While the guards were focussed on the illusion of the Death Eater, she dashed out from behind the stalagmite and ran towards the corridor. When she was safely in the corridor, she realised that another great fortune had been bestowed on her. This time the corridor was empty. As she ran back towards the door, she heard the voice of the guard in the distance and realised that her glamour must have finally disappeared.

"Anyone would think he was the Dark Lord himself with that attitude." She heard the guard complain when the glamour hadn't answered his question and had promptly disappeared. For this she was very thankful, understanding that it must have looked as though the fake Death Eater had disapparated before the guard had been able to garner a response.

As soon as Tamara reached the door, she flung herself through it. She had her wand at the ready, knowing that the troll would be waiting for her with his club. "Confundus!" She called out, not raising her voice any more than she dared. Again, the troll began to look around him with a vacant expression on his face. Not wasting any time, she ran down the length of the corridor, turning corners and passing pathways until she reached the opening that was obscured by the large boulder. Slipping behind the boulder, she wasted no time in making her way back to the secret exit. Creating a small gash on the palm of her hand with her wand, she smeared drops of blood onto the wall and instantly the doorway appeared again and she quickly ran through.

The homeless man wasn't waiting for her when she emerged. Tamara guessed that he had found another hiding place. Thankful for the light of day and the fresh air, she began the journey back through Diagon Alley and wasn't surprised to see the familiar face of the homeless man peer out of the door of Flourish and Blotts as she approached. His expression was one of utter disbelief. He hurried toward her.

"You escaped?" He exclaimed, awe beginning to accentuate his features.

Tamara nodded in response. "They didn't know I was there." She told him. Then another thought occurred to her. "Do you want me to help you leave Diagon Alley?" She asked, remembering that he had said he had become trapped. Immediately, his eyes lit up and he eagerly nodded. Thankful for all the man's help, she led him through the alley and back to the ruined portal that separated the wizarding world's former shopping avenue from the back streets of muggle London. Using her amulet to shield them both, they had soon made it safely through the force-field that protected the entrance. The man fell to her feet, thanking her profusely. Smiling, she pressed some galleons into his hand so that he could now at least get something to eat and clean himself up. Tears began to glisten in his eyes as he gazed at her in adulation.

"How can I ever repay you, miss?" He asked her, over and over. She firmly told him that there was no need and that she hoped his life would begin to improve. He nodded and was still calling his thanks over his shoulder as he began to walk away.

* * *

When she returned to Elizabeth's apartment, she found it was empty. Elizabeth had a late shift at the hospital that day so she wouldn't be returning home until later that evening. Tamara sat at the dining table with books and parchment strewn across it as she tried to work out what the silvery blue substance was that had been in the jars back in the chamber below Gringotts. She also recalled what the guard had said to the glamour that had resembled a Death Eater. The guard had asked "is it ready yet?" What could this have meant?

Thoughts of the glamour, however, also continued to tumble through her mind. Even now, she found it unbelievable that she had been able to cast it and had spent much of the afternoon trying to cast another one. Though she was almost able to manage small uncomplicated things like pebbles, she couldn't manage larger things like coffee cups and certainly not people, though she was certain that she still had the ability. After all, she had already accomplished it once. She guessed that like the time she had inadvertently transfigured herself into an owl on the night of Dumbledore's death that perhaps adrenaline had a large part to play in her ability to perform more advanced levels of magic. She made a mental note to keep practising, though, and perhaps Snape would help her if she asked the next time she saw him.

What continued to elude her, however, were the contents of the strange jars. None of the books she had in the apartment made any reference, or even hint, as to what the substance could have been. She would have to return to the Ministry of Magic's library tomorrow and see if she could find any information there, though she had a feeling that since Voldemort was involved that this was information that would only be found in the restricted section of Hogwarts' library. She sighed, knowing that she didn't have an easy task ahead of her.

* * *

The many hours Tamara spent in the library trying to deduce what she had seen in the chamber in Gringotts was largely fruitless. Without any clue as to the nature of the strange substance in the jars, it hadn't been long before her research had soon hit a dead end.

And as the weeks passed, she also began to worry about Snape, who had not been to visit since her birthday. This, of course, made her feel a considerable amount of loneliness as she wondered when she would get to see him next and whether she would ever get to share more than a few hours with him.

With a pang, she also realised that her friends would be well into their first term of the Hogwarts school year. Tamara wished, emphatically, for a normal life; one without Voldemort and one that contained school and the usual classroom dramas. But it wasn't to be. She had been born into the war, and so she had to honour her birthright and use her inherited power to fight against the dark forces.

One day when she was staring idly out of the window, something appeared on the horizon that caught her attention. A tawny owl was winging its way toward the apartment. Tamara opened the window to let it in and it came to land on the window ledge. It promptly held out its leg and she removed the envelope that had been tied there, her heart pounding in her chest. The envelope was plain. Holding it tightly in her hand, she offered her arm to the owl which jumped up immediately, taking care not to sink its talons into her skin, and she carried it to the kitchen. Elizabeth, who had the afternoon off today, was making a cup of tea and she looked up in surprise to see Tamara approach with the owl.

"What a stunning owl!" She exclaimed. "Is this the owl post? I've never seen post arrive this way before!" Elizabeth was clearly excited so Tamara brought the tawny owl towards her so that she could gently stroke it. The owl hopped onto a surprised Elizabeth's arm, and Tamara headed to the fridge to retrieve a plate of left over beef from the previous night's dinner. Tamara fed bits of the beef to the owl, which was enjoying the affections that were now being lavished on him. He nudged Tamara's hand, appreciatively, at being given the beef and Tamara took him back to the window where he ruffled his feathers and flew away again.

Once she had returned the plate of beef to the fridge, Tamara sat down at the table and immediately tore into the envelope. To her immense disappointment, she found that the parchment within was blank. She turned it over a few times, wondering what this meant. Elizabeth watched as she deliberated and finally took out her wand. Tamara tapped the parchment three times and uttered a revealing charm. The parchment glowed for a moment but remained blank. She sighed.

"Oh Severus, when are you coming back?" She whispered. Suddenly, the parchment glowed again. This time, words appeared. Her desire to see Snape again seemed to have been a password of sorts. The letter, however, was unsigned and contained instructions. The writer instructed Tamara to journey to an isolated port town in northern Scotland, the name of which she did not recognise. The writer further explained that she would be met in the town's pub by a little old man wearing a winter jacket and a sailor's cap. Tamara pondered this for a moment before she noticed that the parchment seemed to sparkle in the light. This gave her an idea. Running to her bedroom, she took out her Mother's small chest of potions. Selecting one of them, she ran back to the dining room and poured a little of it over the parchment. A moment later, the potion disappeared and in its place an image had been revealed which replaced the words. The image was of a single red rose. Tamara smiled, knowing exactly who the sender was.

Her smile didn't last for long, though. What had happened to make Snape send such a strange summons? Not only this but the task itself would be problematic. She was required to be there tomorrow night, and without the use of apparition it would be difficult to find a discreet mode of transportation that would get her there in time.

Tamara sighed and tapped the parchment with her wand, watching it disintegrate before her eyes. Elizabeth, who was also watching, saw the crestfallen expression appear on Tamara's face.

"What's up, sweetheart?" She asked, taking a seat at the table beside Tamara. "Bad news?"

Tamara looked up at her cousin. "It's a long story." She sighed.

"I have all the time in the world." Elizabeth replied. "You've looked pretty down, lately. Maybe it would help to talk about it."

Tamara bit her lip. Elizabeth had understood about everything else. Perhaps she would understand about this too. Her heart aching with the need to see Snape again, she began to tell her tale. "I'm sort of seeing someone. He's an older guy, and not very popular. He's a double agent, spying for the good guys and he had to do something really difficult for the war. Not many people understand about it. Not even my two best friends. Because he's a double agent, he has to stay on the right side of the group he's spying on. It means we can't see each other very often. He sent me a letter, asking me to go to an isolated port town tomorrow night and I have no idea how I'm supposed to get there in time. It's so far away. I have to see him, Elizabeth. I miss him so much. I really hate this war. It's torn so many people apart." Tears glistened in Tamara's eyes as she told her tale in as simple a manner as she could.

Elizabeth placed a comforting arm around Tamara's shoulders. "Where is this port town?" She asked.

"Northern Scotland," Tamara told her with a derisive laugh. It sounded ridiculous.

"I could drive you." Elizabeth offered. At this, Tamara shot her an incredulous look. "I'm serious!" Elizabeth insisted. "I told you I would do whatever I could to help you in this war. If we leave first thing in the morning we should just be able to make it in time. Besides, I could do with some time off and I'd like to meet the guy who's lucky enough to be able to call you his girl."

Tamara didn't know what to say. Elizabeth had surpassed all of her expectations. Family bonds were evidently more powerful than she had ever bargained for. "Elizabeth, there's no way I can ever repay you," She began, but Elizabeth held her hand up.

"You're my cousin. There's no need." Elizabeth told her. The girls shared a hug before Elizabeth suggested that they get ready for the journey and that Tamara could tell her all about "her man" on the way.

* * *

When the sun began to rise the next morning, the girls were ready for the journey. They had their travel bags packed, Elizabeth had phoned the hospital to request a last minute leave of absence, and they were now driving along the motorway. Elizabeth was asking questions about Snape, which Tamara eagerly answered. She explained about his skill as a wizard, his potion-making prowess, his air of charisma and mystery, and his tendency to be reticent and unapproachable to all but the few he was close to, and even then this didn't comprise a large circle of people. She even told Elizabeth how their relationship had begun, though this made her a little nervous considering that Snape had been her teacher when they had met. Elizabeth, however, listened with interest and continued to ask excited questions. A couple of hours later, they had finally exhausted the topic and had moved on to the escapades Tamara had experienced with her friends at Hogwarts.

Near the border of Scotland, Elizabeth stopped at a transport cafe so that they could both have something to eat and get some rest. After an hour or so, they were back on the road, and as the sun began to set once more, Elizabeth turned away from the main roads and travelled the windy side streets for a time. Eventually, the houses and villages gave way to the endless rolling countryside. After yet more time had passed, and the darkness began to cloak the landscape, the countryside grew steadily sparser. Finally, the sea came into view as their destination appeared on the horizon. The cold and unforgiving waves crashed on the craggy coastline and as they entered the tiny port town rain began to beat down in heavy sheets.

Tamara's heart began to beat with nervousness as Elizabeth parked the car in a bay beside the town's pub. Together they grabbed their bags and ran toward the front door, entering the bar completely sodden from the rain. Elizabeth followed Tamara to the bar and ordered a pot of tea. The barman nodded and disappeared through a door. Tamara perched herself on one of the bar stools and discreetly cast a glance about the room. It wasn't full by any means, but it was still playing host to a number of people. If it weren't for her keen eyes, she would have completely missed the man she was looking for. The little old man wearing the sailor's cap, as had been indicated in the letter, was huddled in a booth in the far corner of the room. She gave him a barely discernable nod and to her relief, he returned the nod. All was going to plan. She turned her attention back to the bar as the barman placed a pot of tea in front of them. Elizabeth poured the tea into the two accompanying cups and Tamara took a life-giving sip.

They sat in silence for a time, trying to appear inconspicuous as they drank their tea. Out of the corner of her eye, Tamara noticed the man get up. He caught her eye before heading through a door and into another room. Tamara took a moment to finish the last dregs of her tea before placing her hand on Elizabeth's arm and following the man.

On the other side of the door, they found themselves in a small and empty room. The man immediately drew out his wand and cast locking and silencing charms at it before taking a tiny vial of liquid out of his pocket. The vial contained one mouthful, which the man swallowed in one gulp. What happened next shocked Tamara, and Elizabeth stumbled backwards having never seen such a display of magic before. The appearance of the man began to change. His skin was suddenly less wrinkly, he was growing taller and his hair was regaining much of its colour. Tamara gasped as she realised who it was. Snape. When Snape was completely himself again, Tamara ran forwards and flung her arms around him, lifting her chin up for a brief kiss.

"My apologies for the disguise." He told Tamara. "Discretion is of the utmost importance."

"How did you do that?" She asked, wonderment in her voice. "I thought polyjuice potion wore off on its own."

"I spent more than 15 years as the Potions Master. Wouldn't it be natural for me to acquire some useful potions in my private stores?" He told her, a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth. She grinned at his resourcefulness and she silently remarked that his skills had never yet failed to amaze her. Snape, however, no longer seemed to be sharing her happy expression, and his smirk had all but disappeared, as he cast his eyes over her shoulder at Elizabeth. "Why is she here, Tamara? You were supposed to come alone. I hope you realise how incredibly foolhardy you've been in bringing her with you."

Tamara opened her mouth to respond, but Elizabeth was too quick for her. "I don't believe I'm hearing this! If it weren't for me, she wouldn't be here at all. How else do you think she was supposed to get here?" she shot at him. He didn't look pleased at being addressed like this.

"She's a witch and therefore in a much better position to protect herself than you are." He shot back. All at once, Tamara understood what he was saying. Elizabeth was her cousin, and a muggle at that. It was only natural for him to want to minimise the harm that could come to her when she had no means of magically protecting herself. It was too late to explain this to Elizabeth, however. Her cousin, like so many before her, had not warmed to Severus Snape's cold and unsociable demeanour.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth fired back, indignantly. Evidentally, fiery dispositions ran in the family.

"You are muggle and this is a wizarding war. If anything should happen you won't be able to protect yourself, and I won't let Tamara lose anyone else." Snape's voice was terse, his expression pointed, as he spoke in the no nonsense tone that had brought order to so many an unruly class. Elizabeth, startled at this revelation, fell silent and gaped at him rather comically.

After an awkward moment of silence Elizabeth finally replied, though in much a quieter voice. "At least I'm doing something to help which is more than I can say for you, leaving her to fret about you for weeks on end. She cares about you, you know."

This visibly stung Snape. His sallow skin turned a nasty shade of puce, and for the first time Tamara saw that he was at a loss for how to respond. Tamara took this opportunity to cut in and try her best to restore the peace between the two people she loved.

"Please Elizabeth, he's only concerned about our safety." She told her cousin, softly. "The war is dangerous, even for us, and he just wants to make sure nothing happens to us." Elizabeth was still glaring, but out of respect for Tamara she said nothing more on the matter. "So what's the plan?" Tamara asked Snape, relieved to be able to change the subject.

"We need to make a short journey." He told them. "Your cousin will have to come with us. I can't risk her being found here if any Death Eaters should happen to appear. It wouldn't bode well for her, or for us." Elizabeth didn't look impressed at the implication that she was some sort of liability, but Tamara cut in before she could say anything.

"Severus, why all the trouble? Why did I have to make such a long journey? Couldn't you just apparate?" She asked. This question had been burning inside her ever since she had received his summons.

"The Dark Lord is now tracking the apparition trails of his Death Eaters. I couldn't risk doing anything that might lead him to you, or that might make him realise the true nature of our relationship. Journeying here without magic was not easy, but it was entirely necessary." Snape explained, his voice becoming softer now, giving way to the velvety tones that Tamara so loved.

"What's our task?" Tamara immediately asked.

"It is imperative that we maintain discretion. It will be more prudent if I explain when we arrive at our destination." Snape told her, cryptically.

"I think you've picked up a few bad habits from Dumbledore." Tamara told him, trying to make light of the situation in referring to his inadvertent need to cloak himself in mystery. At this, Snape smiled the first true smile that Tamara had ever seen from him. In all of their previous encounters, he had always seemed tense, pensive, or frustratingly neutral. It was his eyes that were usually the most expressive. She mused; it was just like Dumbledore to have an influence on easing people's feelings, even from beyond the grave.

"I presume you returned to Diagon Alley?" He said, changing the topic. In her relief at seeing him again, her fatigue at the journey, and the tense emotions that had followed, she had forgotten about her fact finding mission.

"Yes, I did. I managed to get in and out of Gringotts without being seen." Tamara began, and continued to explain about the chamber and the eerie jars that had been housed there. When she mentioned the strange substance that was being kept in the jars, and the oppressive atmosphere that had hung over the chamber, an ugly scowl spread across his features. "Severus, what is it?" She asked, startled. He took a moment to respond.

"I wondered why the Dark Lord seemed so eager to keep the dementors close by." He said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

"What does he want the dementors for?" Tamara asked, though her confusion disappeared the moment the question left her lips. A horrible realisation dawned on her. "Do you mean to tell me that the chamber in Gringotts… is a storage facility for human souls?" She choked on the words, unwilling to say what they were both thinking. The idea was horrifying. No wonder the atmosphere in the chamber had seemed so utterly sickening. All Snape could do was nod. It was plain that his sentiments mirrored her own. Elizabeth, however, had never heard of dementors and Tamara was left to explain their role in the justice system. When Elizabeth finally understood that the dementors were creatures that left a wake of misery behind them and that their "kiss" was intended to deprive a human being of their soul, rendering the human a mere empty shell, she too understood the horror of Voldemort's present activities.

"Why would he do such a thing?" Elizabeth asked, incredulously.

"I could not begin to speculate on his reasons why. The Dark Lord did not share details of his plan with many of the Death Eaters. I couldn't claim to understand his thinking." Snape replied, his tone even though it was plain that even for him this was no matter-of-fact revelation.

"There's something else." Tamara suddenly cut in. "I don't understand why it was so easy to get in and out. Surely there would be stronger defences protecting a place that's so important to him?"

This revelation didn't appear to sit well with Snape. "Ordinarily, you would be correct. In places of particular importance, the Dark Lord sometimes opts to engage defences that are impenetrable to all except those who carry the dark mark. Perhaps your Mother's power makes you different, or perhaps there is another reason for such nominal defences. I will see what I can find out." He told her, apparently having no better understanding than she did. With that, the last vestiges of their conversation ebbed away, making way for the task that lay ahead.

The girls were told to meet Snape by the docks in an hour, and to wear clothes that would be warm and inconspicuous. Taking a hip flask out of his pocket, he took a swig and a moment later the little old sailor once more stood in his place. The sailor promptly disappeared from the room, leaving Tamara and Elizabeth to return to the main bar. They slid into seats at the side of the room, their conversation sparse though the atmosphere between them was considerably lighter.

An hour later, the girls left the warmth of the pub and made their way toward the town's docks. Mercifully, the rain had now stopped but the wind was as strong as ever and they huddled together as they walked. When they arrived at the docks they saw an old tin dinghy moored up, but no-one was in sight. Wondering where Snape was, they waited for what seemed like an age until finally he began to approach, still in his guise as the old sailor. When he ushered them towards the boat, Tamara began to panic. Surely that little thing wouldn't be able to transport them safely over the treacherous waves of the stormy sea? But Snape, evidentally, had thought of this. Taking out his wand, he cast a quick charm over the boat.

Elizabeth was first to step into the boat. The disguised Snape immediately stepped forward and offered his hand to her to steady her as she stepped down. Elizabeth flashed him an appreciative smile before sitting on the wooden slab that served as a seat. Tamara felt glad for this. She knew that single smile had taken a lot of effort for Elizabeth. Tamara followed Elizabeth and stepped down into the boat and before long the three of them were seated and powering across the crashing waves. Despite the howling wind and the rising swell, however, the journey was not as bumpy as Tamara expected. Thanks to Snape's charm, the boat almost seemed to float above the water.

They travelled in this fashion for another hour or two, and finally a lone island began to emerge in the darkness. As they approached, Tamara could see that it looked wild and overgrown. It was very eerie. A small jetty protruded from the small stretch of sand that served as a beach, and Snape guided the boat towards it. Once moored, the girls wasted no time in stepping onto the safety of solid ground, thankful to have survived their journey across the sea. Snape, still in disguise, led them away from the jetty and into the thick plant growth that covered the island. Though it was already dark outside, under the cover of the island's wild plant life, it was almost pitch black. Even with Snape and Tamara walking by wand-light it was almost impossible to see where they were going.

Finally, a dilapidated wooden shack appeared in the wilderness. Snape came to a stop and shot a spell at the shack that Tamara didn't recognise. After a moment, he appeared satisfied and approached the door. He tapped the door with his wand three times and uttered a password. The front door opened in response and Snape led them inside and towards what appeared to be a sitting room, lighting the lamps with his wand. When the lights were finally lit, Tamara was able to see that the shack actually looked rather comfortable and nothing at all like the decrepit exterior. For Tamara, this was not entirely surprising, since she was used to the wizarding world. To Elizabeth, however, it was sheerly amazing and she gazed about the room, over and over, trying to take it all in.

Snape took out another tiny potion vial, and no sooner had he swallowed the potion than he had transformed back into himself again. "We will be safe here for a few days. The house carries charms that are not unlike those that protect Hogwarts." He explained. "You are welcome to move about as you will, though I would suggest that remaining within the walls of the house would be a prudent decision."

Tamara sank onto the sofa beside Elizabeth. She was weary but there were still things to be said before any of them chose to retire for the night. Her eyes locked onto Snape's as she silently implored him to finally explain why they were here.

* * *

**Author Note:** Another cliffhanger... aren't I mean! Haha! Yep, a bit of a longer chapter this time, and quite a bit going on. What's in store for our trio?


	22. The Island

**Author Note:** Hi everyone. It's friday again! I hope this chapter doesn't seem rushed. I had some trouble with it, this week, and ended up writing most of it last night when I was really tired. Let me know if there's any glaring mistakes.

Thanks to Wendy Waddles, ErrorofWays7, Thatgirlwiththatsmile, Holly, and Elza (who sent her review privately) for your kind reviews. Thanks also to Aslaneyes for reading and adding "Fire and Ice" to your favourites list. You all make me feel so good! Thanks so much :)

ThatGirlWithThatSmile: Thanks for your compliment about Snape's character. I work really hard to keep him as IC as I can, so I'm glad I'm getting it right.

Holly: You asked whether Snape will tell her about being headmaster at hogwarts. I mentioned it a few chapters ago, but the story will be AU from book seven, which means he won't be returning to Hogwarts and McGonagall will likely keep the post instead. I'm glad you're enjoying the story though!

Elza: You asked why Lupin led the Slytherins instead of Slughorn in the funeral chapter. I have to admit that this confused me a bit as Slughorn was never in the story at all. I may have mirrored the story with book 6, but as you know certain details had been different. Snape, for example, I had chosen to stay as potions master during their 6th year, so it would have been rather strange to suddenly plonk Slughorn in the story. We also know Lupin to be an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, so I thought it would be only natural that Order members would be at the funeral and it seemed appropriate that he would offer to help McGonagall by leading the Slytherins when there was no-one else to do it.

Another note, the poem at the start of this chapter is taken from one of the songs that played during the Yule Ball in the fourth movie. You will be able to find it on the soundtrack. I wrote the weird sisters as the band, because that is the reference in both the book and on the net.

Well, that's it from me until next week. Come back on Friday the tenth and you will find a shiny new chapter waiting for you! All the best!

**Chapter 22 – The Island**

"_And make your final move  
Don't be scared, she wants you too  
Yeah, it's hard, you must be brave  
Don't let this moment slip away..._

_Now, believe that magic works  
Don't be afraid, afraid of being hurt  
Don't, don't let this magic die  
The answer's there  
Oh, just look in her eyes"_

_~ The Weird Sisters_

Tamara gazed at Snape for a long time. No-one spoke a word and hardly a breath was drawn. All that could be heard was the wind outside as it rattled against the windows. There was so much she needed to understand and Snape's lack of forthrightness was becoming frustrating. Being dragged the length of the United Kingdom had been the last straw. She had made the journey because she trusted his judgment, but it was becoming more and more difficult to retain her faith in the greater good and that she was going in the right direction.

Snape could see her feelings blazing in her eyes and felt a twinge of guilt. Tamara had faced so much. Her whole life had been overturned and he wasn't making it any easier for her. But then, it was war they were facing and she had known what that would involve, he defensively thought. It wasn't his business to make it easy. Try as he might to be defensive, though, he still couldn't suppress that seed of guilt that was niggling within him. She was not just a mere warrior in the war. She had his heart and that changed things.

To think that he was now in a relationship, that he felt love for another, was a strange thing indeed. Any serious thoughts concerning love had been absent from his mind for more years than he cared to admit and he hadn't counted on falling for Tamara. He recalled the moment when he had first realised that. She had been in her fifth year at Hogwarts, completing her Potions theory O.W.L. She had such a keen mind and such an aptitude for potions. He had been anxious to see her succeed. Rather her than know-it-all Granger. But when she had risen to her feet at the end of the exam her legs had suddenly given way and she had collapsed under the weight of her exhaustion. Terror had permeated his body, torturously, as he had raced towards her. Their eyes had locked for one brief moment as he scooped her up in his arms, and then unconsciousness had claimed her. That was the moment it all began for him. He remembered it well, though it had been such a long time before he had admitted it to himself. It was a marvel to him, as well, that she returned his feelings. Perhaps he had been taking that for granted of late. Perhaps he had been too hard on her.

She seemed so much stronger now as she sat composedly and gazed at him. It was as though several years of experience had been placed on her in the last few months and she seemed to have greater depth of maturity as a result. It was appealing and unnerving at the same time... a feeling that was entirely new to him. Though she seemed to notice the way he was looking at her, she didn't approach him or embrace him comfortingly as she usually did. She chose, instead, to address him from where she sat.

"Why was it necessary wear that disguise for so long?" She asked him, a hint of concern in her voice.

His eyes narrowed. "We cannot be seen together Tamara, at any cost. The price we would pay for consorting is one I do not care to think of. The Dark Lord would punish me for not handing you over, but working with you and protecting you would be tantamount to treason in His eyes. There would be no question that I would be killed for it, and he would kill you and steal your power. You know that is what he wants. Tamara, I love you but you must understand what a dangerous position our relationship puts us in. I don't want anything to happen to you. He would _not _be forgiving if he discovered you with me."

Tamara rose to her feet and fluidly walked across the room toward him, looking him in the eye. "I think you're being patronising, Severus." She told him. "You just dragged me the length of the country. I have to fight in this war, you know. It's about time you told me exactly what's going on."

Her words were not forceful, but they weren't soft either. He wanted to take her hands in his, kiss her forehead and reassure her, but the seriousness in her countenance and her tone told him that now was not the time and a voice at the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Dumbledore's answered his previous silent enquiry; yes, he had definitely been too hard on her.

"This house belonged to Professor Dumbledore, though he did not use it as a place of residence." He told her, forcing patience to return to his voice. "He bought it from a hermit many years ago; the very night after the Dark Lord lost his powers, in fact. He did not believe that the Dark Lord's incapacitation would be permanent and arranged for this place to be a safe house should the time come that the Dark Lord return and the war become dire once more. He told me after he had completed the arrangements that he anticipated that on his return, the Dark Lord might choose to engage in a plan that he believed had been developing before his first fall." Snape explained. Tamara's eyes had widened in bewilderment as she tried to process the information he was giving her.

"What was it that he hid?" She asked, her voice sounding oddly stretched. "What was this supposed plan of Voldemort's?"

"Our task becomes problematic here." Snape responded, his eyes betraying a distinct sense of discomfort at his own lack of understanding. "Professor Dumbledore thought it best not to reveal this information. He believed that if the time came we would understand."

"So we stay here until we find it?" She asked. He nodded.

"I think that we should use our time here as best we can. Some time in a safe location will undoubtedly benefit us." By this he meant that the magical refuge could perhaps help rejuvenate them a little, but it was also an opportunity for them to spend a little more time together. Tamara seemed to understand this, though, as she shot him a mischievous grin.

"How long do you have?" She asked.

"I can spare a few days. The Dark Lord thinks I am deep under cover pursuing information that might lead him to Harry Potter's whereabouts. When I return, I will simply tell him that I lost the trail." He told her, matter-of-factly, as though hoodwinking Voldemort was as normal as reading a newspaper.

"But won't he punish you for failing?" Tamara asked, shocked.

"No doubt." He told her, a wry smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

"I can't let you do that!" She protested.

"It is too late for that, Tamara. Besides, that is the lot of a Death Eater." He explained. This was nothing new to him. He knew what it meant to be a Death Eater. He knew what to expect and generally what to do to survive. He had been fighting the war for years. Tamara, however, was still relatively new to the war, and it took her a moment to process this new Voldemort-related horror.

"I don't like this, Severus." She told him, leaning towards him to rest her head on his chest. Glad for her closeness, he wrapped his arms about her waist.

"Try not to worry. I will be fine, I assure you." He said, his voice lowering to a husky whisper.

"Won't Voldemort be able to find where you are, though?" She asked, persistently.

"I didn't apparate, so there is no magical trail for him to follow. I promise we are safe for now." He reassured her again, and this time she seemed to accept it and he felt her body relax a little in his arms. "Perhaps we should all get some sleep now. Both you and Elizabeth have had a long day."

#

Bed time proved to be somewhat a conundrum. Although Snape had known of the house, he had never visited it before which meant that they still had to locate the bedrooms. When they found the bedrooms, which turned out to be up a short and narrow flight of stairs, they discovered the next problem. There were only two. Though there had been a couple of times that Tamara had fallen asleep while entwined in Snape's arms on her little bed back in London, Elizabeth didn't know this and it had not been an entirely conscious choice on their part. As Tamara looked from Elizabeth to Snape, wondering how they would organise the arrangements, she couldn't help but see the intimidating and yet skilled and charismatic Potions Master once more. After the emotionally turbulent day she had just experienced, she couldn't help but feel once more like the giddy school girl who was in love with her teacher; the girl she had been before all this had even started.

Snape also seemed to be somewhat self-conscious. His posture had suddenly stiffened and he announced that the girls could have the bedrooms and that he would take the couch downstairs. Inwardly, Tamara wasn't particularly thrilled about this idea, wanting to spend as much time with Snape as she could while they were together, though she could hardly say as much. Elizabeth seemed to understand this, perhaps because they were cousins or perhaps because they were both women, Tamara didn't know. Elizabeth delicately but casually said she didn't mind if Tamara and Snape shared the second room or not, that it seemed to be more practical that way anyway, and quickly changed the subject by asking where the bed linen was.

In the end, it proved easier to simply conjure bed linen magically, which Snape did more than aptly. For Elizabeth, it was amazing to see blankets and sheets appear out of nowhere and she shyly prodded the towering pile just to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her. Tamara couldn't help but enjoy Elizabeth's natural curiosity.

Before long, they had all retired to their rooms and Tamara and Snape found themselves alone at long last. The temptation to smother him with kisses was strong but her heart pounding anxiously in her chest held her back. Instead she busied herself with arranging the sheets and blankets. When this was done, she sat on the edge of the bed. Snape had been watching her, uncertainly. She patted the space on the bed beside her and he accepted her hint and sat down.

She leaned in toward him to kiss his neck and rested her hand on top of his. Snape didn't respond at first, and it took a few more moments of gentle coaxing from Tamara before he began to relax and return her affections.

Before long, they had curled up together on the bed, heads on the soft pillows, as they indulged in sharing kisses. Her shirt had inadvertently been hitched up a little as they had lain down, leaving her midriff exposed, and she enjoyed the feel of his hands as they caressed the bare skin of her waist. As they continued to lose themselves in the kissing, his hands crept slowly upward until he had cupped her breast in his wonderfully strong grasp. After a moment, though, he began to slow down and eventually broke the kiss and gazed at her with his endlessly deep eyes.

_Oh no, not again, _she thought to herself as memories of the awful potions conference inadvertently began to resurface. "What's wrong?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice steady as she tried not to panic.

"Nothing is wrong," he told her, his voice soft. "I think we should discuss... what are your thoughts about..." He was obviously nervous, and it surprised Tamara to hear his voice falter.

"Do you mean sex?" She asked, suddenly shy. "I hadn't really thought about it." She confessed. "I mean, I have no doubt that you're the one I want to be with. I just always thought it would happen at the right time." She explained. He seemed relieved to hear this.

"I am glad that you feel that way. I wanted our _first time_ to be special rather than in a dingy place like this while we are in hiding, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if we _didn't _while we are here." He told her, speaking in a soft voice that reminded Tamara of the start of year speech Snape had given back in her first year at Hogwarts. It was a voice filled with passion.

"In the mean time, we can still _play around_ a little, though, can't we?" Tamara responded, impishly, deciding that she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her body. He gazed back at her, eyes smouldering as a smile played on the corners of his mouth.

"Of course." He whispered, before devouring her lips in another kiss.

#

The next morning found the trio sitting at the tiny dining table that had been crammed into the tiny kitchen. Tamara managed some basic transfiguration, the results of which were a stack of toast and a pot of tea. Her mind whirred as she ate, wondering if Dumbledore might have left any clues. She had tried a quick spell to find any traces of magic that had been left in the house, but this had been no good. The extensive protection and concealment charms that had been cast on the place overwhelmed any other trails of magic that might have been detectable. She had then turned her thoughts to Dumbledore's personality. He favoured the cryptic and mysterious, and often opted for the unexpected in his magic. How could she even begin to fathom the mind of such an extraordinary wizard?

For most of that day, Snape and the two girls searched every corner of the house for clues but found nothing out of the ordinary. It was only at dinner that night, once more in the cramped kitchen, that something happened. A sudden movement by the window caught Elizabeth's attention. Tamara looked up in surprise as her cousin leapt to her feet and ran to the window.

"It was him!" She declared. "I saw Dumbledore looking in at us. He winked at me!" Elizabeth looked visibly shaken.

"Are you sure?" Tamara asked softly, turning her gaze to the window but seeing nothing.

"Definitely." Elizabeth replied. "It was the old man with the funny name who looked after me the day I found out that the rest of our family had been killed all those years ago. I have never forgotten his face. It was him!"

Tamara wasn't sure what to make of this, but Snape's quick mind had already deduced a possible explanation.

"You saw the apparition outside?" He asked. Elizabeth nodded. "Then I think it is likely that what we are looking for won't be found inside the house. Professor Dumbledore must have chosen a hiding place outside."

It was decided that expanding their search beyond the walls of the house would wait until morning as it would be far too dark by now for any kind of search to be productive, and they all retreated to bed that night with countless thoughts weighing on their minds.

#

As soon as it was daylight once more, they wrapped up warmly and headed outside. They searched the immediate vicinity for clues and again it was Elizabeth who offered the first lead.

"Can we go that way?" She asked, pointing at the part of the woods that lay directly in front of her. "Something feels funny over there."

Snape's eyes narrowed. He motioned for them to wait while he stepped forward to examine the line of trees where the woods began. They watched as he cast a series of complicated spells and eventually he signalled for them to join him. "It is faint, but there is a definite trace of magic. I'm surprised that you picked up on it, Elizabeth. Even the most skilled wizards might have missed it."

Elizabeth felt a surge of pride at this, but something had clicked for Tamara. "Perhaps that was the point." She suddenly interjected. "Maybe that was how Dumbledore designed it; so that only a muggle would be able to feel it."

"Perhaps." Snape echoed. "It would mean a wizard and a muggle having to work together, which is something that the Dark Lord would never do. It would be a clever form of protection."

At that, he led them forward and into the woods, allowing Elizabeth to lead the way as it was she who felt the magical trail the most keenly. The path was straight for a long time, until suddenly Elizabeth veered to the right. Eventually, she stopped at a clearing, and again Snape moved forward while the girls waited. When he deemed it safe, they helped him search the area.

This time it was Tamara who found it. It was a small grassy mound that might easily have been missed. On the underside of the mound, however, the grass faded away revealing the bare rock and the faint outline of what looked like a tiny door. She tapped it with her wand and the rock door opened to reveal a compartment. Inside there was a ring and a note. She retrieved them both and the rock promptly sealed itself once more.

Tamara sat on top of the mound and read the note. It was short and offered a few words of encouragement.

"_This ring will help you to right some wrongs, but don't forget that the greatest power you have is within yourself."_

Unsure of what to make of this, she showed Elizabeth and Snape the note.

"The greatest power you have is within yourself is quite obvious." Elizabeth said, surprising Tamara. "What does love make you think of with respect to the war?" She asked. Tamara thought for a moment.

"It tells me that there is something good that's worth fighting for, to have faith in." Tamara answered, remembering the long weeks she and Snape had spent apart and how angry she had been that Voldemort could so easily tear families and loved ones apart.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "That faith is obviously what Dumbledore thinks is the greatest power you could have. That's what will drive you and help you not to give up. What do you suppose the ring is for, though?"

Again, Snape had an answer ready. He took the ring from Tamara and held it in his hand for a time as he pondered and eventually offered his theory. "I believe this ring will have a role to play in helping to free the souls that the Dark Lord has trapped." He told them. "It seems to be tied to the essence of Professor Dumbledore's magic."

"Which is obviously why he needed to hide it in a place like this. Can you imagine what a disaster it would be if Voldemort got his hands on this? He'd be unstoppable." Tamara responded.

Snape passed the ring and note back to Tamara. "It is yours to safeguard now." He told her, an air of dignity permeating the atmosphere as Tamara received the ring and carefully slipped it on. Almost immediately she felt Dumbledore's presence as the ring radiated a comforting warmth and sense of power. That power, however, was not hers to wield. She was merely a caretaker. The ring would act when it was needed. At that moment, Dumbledore appeared by the edge of the clearing. He was leaning against one of the trees and smiling at them. He was there only for a moment before fading away completely. Tamara smiled back at him, grateful for the otherworldly reassurance.

#

That evening Tamara sat on the couch poring over her Mother's book. There was one more thing to do before they left. She recalled seeing a spell that Rosalyn had written down and was feverishly searching for it.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Snape asked her, taking a seat beside her and looking over her shoulder at the book.

"I remember seeing a spell in here that will help me alter the tracking charm Voldemort put on you. If I can find it then you will be able to apparate freely again. Ah here it is." She exclaimed, finding the right page. "It's based on the fundamentals that are used in the confundus charm. You designate some safe places and every time he tries to track where you've apparated to he will simply get redirected to one of those places."

Snape agreed that it was at least worth a try and Tamara immediately began the ritual. This first required Snape to write a list of safe places on a scrap of parchment. These were the places that would be revealed to Voldemort if he tried to look for Snape's apparating trail. Tamara then conjured a magical fire and began the first incantation. As indicated in the book, the fire suddenly turned green. Tamara threw the parchment in the fire and spoke the rest of the incantation. In all, it took just over five minutes for her to perform the entire ritual. It certainly wasn't the kind of magic that she was used to, but it felt familiar nonetheless. Her mother had written such things in the book specifically for Tamara's use, and she understood that Rosalyn would likely not have included something unless it was within Tamara's capability.

That night as Tamara lay in Snape's arms in the bed they shared, Snape made a surprising announcement. "I want you to continue your education." He told her. Tamara sat up sharply.

"You mean go back to Hogwarts? There's no way, Severus... I need to be _here. _I can't fight in the war if I'm stuck in there..." She began, but he cut her off.

"I am not referring to Hogwarts." He told her, shortly. "The Ministry of Magic offer correspondence courses designed for students with delicate situations. I want you to enrol. After the war is over you will need your N.E.W.T. qualifications."

The idea of the war being over someday was hard to imagine, but she could see the sense in completing the Ministry run course nonetheless and so she agreed to enrol as soon as she had returned to London.

#

The next day they returned to the little tin boat to return to the Scottish port town they had come from. The boat was necessary because like Hogwarts, Dumbledore's protection charms meant that no-one could apparate or disapparate from the island. Snape adopted his disguise once more and led them back into the private room in the town's pub that they had used before journeying to the island. Once they were all alone, Snape and Tamara said a difficult goodbye and Elizabeth kissed him on the cheek. Tamara marvelled at how far Snape and Elizabeth had both come over the last few days and she was glad of it.

After the goodbyes had been said, they all huddled together and Snape apparated them back to London, with the assurance that Elizabeth's car would appear in its usual place later that day. When they appeared back in the apartment, however, Snape was not with them. They had been left alone once more to wonder what adventure would be awaiting them next.


	23. Schooling

**Author Note: **A little late in the day, but still friday so I hope I'm not in trouble! Okay, so this chapter isn't quite as action packed as the last but its... "the calm before the storm" shall we say.

Thanks everyone for your encouraging reviews. I actually have next weeks chapter already written as well because you all inspired me so much! I'm looking forward to posting it and seeing your reactions as we are just about to come up to an important plot point. Thanks to the following for leaving reviews: Holly, Elza, Thatgirlwiththatsmile, and Wendy Waddles. Thanks also to DacilJuju and XenobiaMoon for adding my little story to your alert lists. I am humbled :)

I'm so glad you all liked Dumbledore's bit of magic concerning muggles. It was a little detail that I wasn't sure what to write and it sort of snuck up on me, so I'm really glad it worked. I find it quite funny that I'm getting requests for some more intimate details for what happens between Tamara and Sev when the lights go out... I shall have to see about that one ;)

Anyway, happy reading and the next will be posted on Friday the 17th of September.

* * *

**Chapter 23 – Schooling**

_~ O my Lord, lie not idle:_

_The chiefest action for a man of great spirit_

_Is never to be out of action. We should think_

_The soul was never put into the body,_

_Which has so many rare and curious pieces_

_Of mathematical motion, to stand still._

_Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds:_

_In the trenches for the soldier:_

_In the wakeful study for the scholar:_

_In the furrows of the sea for the men of_

_Our profession: of all which arise and_

_Spring up with honour. ~_

_- John Webster_

Tamara and Elizabeth shared a light breakfast the following morning. It seemed odd to be home again after their adventurous travails across the country. Everything seemed far too quiet. Far too _normal._ And now Elizabeth had become involved. In many ways Tamara regretted that. But in the end they had needed Elizabeth, a muggle, to find the ring. Did that mean that Elizabeth was supposed to be involved too? Was that Dumbledore's intention? It was comforting that there seemed to be a rhyme and reason to everything that was happening and that now she didn't have to bear her burdens alone.

"What do you plan to do next?" Elizabeth casually asked, as though reading Tamara's thoughts, reaching for the jug of orange juice.

"I want to go back to the chamber in Diagon Alley and try to set the souls free, now that I have Dumbledore's ring." Tamara replied, picking up a forkful of pancake. She had told her cousin back on the island the full story of the horrible chamber beneath Gringotts. "I have to go back to the Ministry of Magic today, though. Severus wants me to finish my education. The Ministry offer a special type of course for people in extraordinary circumstances, so I'm going to see if I can enrol."

"I think that's a great idea." Elizabeth said with a smile. "And it'll give you something to take your mind off everything else, too."

Tamara smiled back in agreement. Elizabeth had, again, got it right. She would need _something _to occupy her mind during the long absences from Snape. But all that aside, she had to admit that he had made a good point. After all this was over, she would need qualifications to fall back on, so making sure she was prepared for that could only have been a good idea.

* * *

Tamara found herself, once more, back in the waiting room in the department of education. It wasn't as crowded this time, seeing as the school year was now underway. She only hoped that when she was shown through that it wouldn't be to the office of the old deaf wizard she'd encountered on her last visit.

To her great relief, she found herself sitting at the desk of a forty-something wizard who looked entirely lucid.

"So you want to enrol do you?" He said, looking at her over the top of his glasses.

"Yes sir." She answered, trying to keep her voice sounding as diplomatic and polite as she could.

"You do realise how very late your application is, don't you? We don't usually allow enrolments this late in the year. Its mid-October, you know. You will have missed a lot." The wizard said, frowning.

"I won't have a problem with catching up. I'm sure my previous year's results will show that." She replied, again trying to remain polite.

"What's your name?" The wizard asked, his dubious expression not changing.

"Tamara Edgecombe, sir." She told him, hoping that her previous year's grades would be enough to convince him that she was capable.

The wizard drew out his wand and gave it a flick. In an instant, a file appeared in front of him. He opened it and began to read. "Miss Edgecombe... ah yes, I remember your name. You were the student designated to represent Hogwarts at the Annual Potions Conference. You enjoyed it?"

This surprised Tamara. The potions conference seemed like a world away, now. "It was certainly an education, sir." She told him, not knowing how else to respond.

He nodded and continued reading. "Hmm. I see you had an incident during your Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations."

Tamara cringed. She had forgotten about her exhaustion induced collapse. "I was treated for that, sir."

The wizard did not look up from the papers in front of him as he continued to speak. "I see Professor Dumbledore entered a note about it during your sixth year. Yes, that seems in order."

While Tamara was grateful that the wizard seemed satisfied that her collapse at the end of her fifth year wouldn't pose any more problems to her now, she couldn't help but wonder at the note that Dumbledore had entered into her file.

"What did Professor Dumbledore write in my file?" She asked, surprise punctuating her voice.

"Simply that you appeared to have recovered well, that you were handling your school work satisfactorily and that you were achieving standards of continued excellence. It's just a follow-up note. It's standard procedure, you see."

Tamara nodded in understanding. It seemed that Dumbledore had done an extraordinary amount of work in ensuring that she would be as well prepared as was possible for the endeavours that awaited her. She wished that she had known some of the things he had done for her before he had died. He certainly deserved more thanks than she had given him when he was alive. She supposed that she had taken it for granted that Dumbledore would always be there. But he wasn't. He was gone, and now she had to manage as best as she could.

"Your results are exceptional, Miss Edgecombe. I'm curious though; there are recommendations here pertaining to the position of Head Girl for your seventh year. Why would you choose to forfeit your Hogwarts education if you were in such an excellent position?" The wizard asked, with genuine interest.

This was something that Tamara had never expected. She had been recommended for Head Girl? Who on earth had recommended her for that? And surely Hermione had been a much better candidate for the Head Girl position than she was.

"I didn't know that, sir." She said, honestly. "But I think my reasons were made clear on the application form to cease N.E.W.T. level school-based education."

"Yes, of course." He replied, almost to himself. "Well, if you would like to sign this, I will arrange a schedule for you. You will be continuing on with the subjects that you studied in your sixth year. Is this agreeable to you?

"That's fine." She answered, smiling with relief as she took the quill from his outstretched hand and signed the parchment that he had placed in front of her. "What about apparition lessons?" She suddenly asked. "I believe that the legal age to begin learning is 17."

He looked up at her with surprise. "I don't see why you can't, so long as it doesn't interfere with your N.E.W.T. studies. Seventh year students are certainly entitled to."

Tamara beamed as the wizard added apparition lessons to her daily schedule.

"Relevant books are available for purchase at a stall in the entrance chamber. We had to arrange a temporary alternative after what happened in Diagon Alley. Your lessons begin tomorrow morning at 9am sharp. Relevant information is on your schedule. Best of luck!" He told her, handing her the schedule along with a list of required text books. She cast her eyes over the schedule, which looked much like the standard Hogwarts timetable. At the top was written 'mentor's name: Mr George Beadle' along with 'hall 3b'. She wondered what sort of wizard Mr Beadle would prove to be, and what sort of education she was likely to get with his guidance as she made her way back through the Ministry to buy her text books.

* * *

That afternoon, Tamara sat at the dining room table in Elizabeth's apartment poring over the new text books in an attempt to prepare herself for the laborious task of catching up on everything that she had missed in the last month and a half. When she had come to the new potions text book she nearly devoured it, drinking in the contents of the pages. Unable to help herself, she had dashed to her room to find her old cauldron which had been buried at the bottom of her school trunk. She also found that she already had most of the required ingredients to try some of the potions, what with the things she had bought at the apothecary the day that Diagon Alley had been invaded.

Setting up the cauldron on the work bench in the kitchen with the text book propped up against a vase, she began to put the required ingredients into bowls.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be back in front of a cauldron again. It felt almost meditative as she chopped, peeled and stirred, and she could almost hear Snape's voice calling out instructions over the top of a chattering class. She had missed this more than she had realised.

The potion she had selected, the first potion in the book, was much more complex than she had expected, but then she had been out of touch for some time now and this was seventh year N.E.W.T. level work. Nonetheless, she relished the challenge and with only one or two small mishaps, the finished product resembled much what the book had indicated. Satisfied, she bottled a sample to show her mentor when lessons began and after uttering a swift "evanesco" the contents of the cauldron vanished.

With a flick of her wand, the bowls containing the potion ingredients began to clean themselves in the sink and neatly stacked themselves up beside the cauldron, and a cloth began to wipe the bench of its own accord. Tamara grinned, loving being able to use magic at home. Once she had put her cauldron back in her trunk, along with the leftover ingredients, she settled down on the couch with her defence against the dark arts text book, though she soon discovered that much it was nothing new to her given her recent experiences and the endless hours she had spent in the Ministry's library. It didn't take long before she had traded it for _Standard Spells for N.E.W.T. level education_.

* * *

At 8.55am the following morning, Tamara knocked on the door marked 'hall 3b', carrying her books in her schoolbag which was slung over her shoulder and propping her cauldron up under her arm. A croaky voice called out "come in!". Tamara opened the door and entered a large hall, trying her best not to drop her cauldron. In the centre of the room was a tetchy looking wizard who was busying himself with pulling a desk into place.

"Miss Edgecombe, I presume?" He said, turning to face her.

"Yes sir." She replied, approaching him and shaking the hand that he extended to her.

"I am Mr Beadle. You may put your things on the desk." He spoke in a no-nonsense tone which told Tamara that her lessons were not going to be easy. "Have you read through any of your text books?"

"I enrolled yesterday, so I've tried to make a start on them." She told him, fishing the potion sample out of her pocket and handing it to him.

Mr Beadle examined the potion for a moment before removing the cork and sending a jet of golden light into the vial. The potion began to glow a silvery golden colour before returning to normal again. "Not a bad effort." He remarked. "Professor Snape has taught you well. Perhaps a little more asphodel next time, though." She could see that he appeared to be less than enthusiastic about Snape, but was glad that he chose to retain a professional courtesy. Perhaps he wouldn't be so bad after all.

The first task that Mr Beadle assigned Tamara was to complete a short test, and over the next half an hour she sat at the desk answering questions on a piece of parchment and tried her best to remember everything that she had read the day before. Unfortunately, the some of the questions referred to things from later chapters in the books so she had to leave those blank, though she didn't do too badly on the Potions section and excelled at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Mr Beadle scanned her results with interest. "Not bad." He remarked again. "We'll get straight into it, then, shall we? Take out your wand."

With a flick of his own wand a colourful parrot appeared on the desk, sitting peacefully on its perch. He gave her the instruction to transfigure it into a bunch of flowers and she took a deep breath and got started. She practised for the next hour, but try though she might she couldn't get her flowers to stop squawking whenever either of them approached.

"You need to be clearer on the details you envision." Mr Beadle told her. "And try a shorter jab of the wand." This worked and before long a perfectly sound bunch of geraniums sat on the desk in front of her, complete with vase. Mr Beadle seemed satisfied with this and after his usual "not bad" he had her move on to the next subject.

The entire day passed in this fashion until she had completed exercises in all of her subjects. Exhausted, she couldn't wait to get to home. Though she was only required to attend lessons in the hall every other day, Mr Beadle gave her so much homework that she knew she wouldn't have time for at least another week to try to free the souls imprisoned in Gringotts. She sighed, inwardly, knowing that nothing in her life so far had been destined to be easy.


	24. The Mission

**Author Note:** Thanks to Wendy Waddles, Elza, and Holly for reviews, and a big thanks to Wendy Waddles for beta-reading this chapter for me!

**This chapter comes with a WARNING.** It comes with an **NC-17 rating** (Aussie's, that's **R18+**) as it contains a scene toward the end that might offend some readers. So if you don't like strong scenes of a negative nature, or are below 18 years of age, I strongly recommend turning away now. If you choose to read on and don't like what you find, I will refer you back to this warning, so please take care in choosing whether to read this one.

Having said this, though, this is the chapter that some answers will be revealed in, so hopefully it will be enlightening at the same time. I'm quite pleased with how it turned considering it wasn't easy to write this sort of emotion.

Hope you are all well and have a great weekend! :)

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**Chapter 24 – The Mission**

As Tamara had predicted, a full week had passed before she faced the prospect of a homework free day. Mr Beadle had given her twice the usual workload in an attempt to help her catch up as quickly as she could. At least now most of the extra work had been done, and she looked forward to settling into a normal schedule once more.

When Saturday came around she wrote the last sentence of her charms essay and put her quill down with relief. Studying seemed like a much more arduous task without the company of her school friends and the buoyant atmosphere of the Ravenclaw common room. She wondered whether or not to write to her friends and pulled a blank piece of parchment toward her. But try though she might, the words would not come and eventually she shoved the parchment away again. Besides, there were other things that needed to be done.

It was almost noon. Tamara didn't want to put off her mission to return to the chamber within Gringotts and wondered whether she dare try that afternoon. Ideally, she would have liked a full day, just in case it took longer than expected. She didn't want to worry Elizabeth by returning home late into the night. But she had in her possession the power to set the trapped souls free and it didn't seem right to delay that. Besides, Elizabeth had a night shift that night, meaning that she wouldn't arouse her cousin's suspicions if the mission took longer than she anticipated. Her mind made up, she would leave within the hour. Suddenly, she wondered why she felt less than willing to tell Elizabeth about the mission and supposed that it was because she didn't want to worry her. It was one thing to fight in a war when you had no choice, but to walk back into the lion's den of your own accord was another thing altogether.

She resolved to at least tell Elizabeth some of the truth, musing at how difficult it was to learn that she could trust after having been so guarded for so long and she couldn't help but smile at this thought because it meant that she could finally appreciate how much Snape must have gone through in learning to trust _her. _

Elizabeth didn't press her for details when she explained about her mission in a general sort of way, even though Tamara could see that she was burning to know, and to help. Her experience with Tamara and Snape on the island, and the caution Snape had taken every step of the way with respect to relinquishing information had taught Elizabeth some valuable lessons about the harsh realities that the state of war had brought upon the wizarding world. Elizabeth, however, refused to let Tamara go anywhere before she'd had some lunch.

Tamara spent much of lunch in silence, occupying the time by casting her thoughts over the mission. She had to admit that she hadn't spent as much time planning this foray into Diagon Alley as she had last time. She was content, nonetheless, because this time she was armed with all of her prior knowledge of the place.

* * *

Tamara, once more, stood before the entrance to Diagon Alley. With trepidation, she realised that she hadn't expected to be returning to this place. She had been so glad to have made it out the first time. Was she being foolhardy by returning a second time? Even if she was, there was no time to back out now. She took a deep breath and prepared to meet the sinister invisible barrier as she had before.

"Finite incantatum!" She called, pointing her wand at the entrance. Holding her amulet up before her, she took the entrance at a run. This time, something was different. This time, something was wrong. Instead of the mild tingling she had felt the last time, she felt a terrible searing pain. For the most part, the shield generated by her amulet protected her, but when she finally extracted herself from the middle of the force field she toppled to the ground on the other side, the back of her robes bearing tears which revealed a large graze glistening with blood. Wincing, she pulled herself to her feet, wondering why the force field barrier had been changed. Had someone suspected an intruder after her previous visit? Or were they simply rotating the methods of protection that they were using, as a matter of security? Either way, she would have to be on her guard.

Keeping to the shadows, she made her way through Diagon Alley as she had done before. Somehow, she missed the company of the strange homeless man. The alley felt so much more isolated and so much darker now. She tightened her grip on her wand and held it out in front of her as she mentally prepared herself for the task that was looming ahead. But the alley wasn't quite as empty as she had thought it was. Two death eaters were approaching from Knockturn Alley. Fortunately, they didn't see her as she shrank back, hiding behind a broken shop door that was barely attached to its hinges. When the death eaters disappeared she quickly hurried onward and soon Gringotts was rising grandly before her eyes and she wasted no time in rushing toward the secret entrance. The wall still accepted the same payment for entry and reaching over her shoulder for the scars on her back, she coated her fingers with the blood that still glistened there and smeared it on the bricks in front of her. In an instant the bricks faded away, revealing the corridor beyond.

She made her way through the now familiar corridors. When she reached the troll she noted with a grimace that he carried a different club this time. This club was bigger than the one she remembered and it had more spikes. The troll itself seemed to be bigger too. It would take a lot more magic than last time to power a strong enough confundus charm. She approached the troll, taking care not to startle it. It didn't look impressed to see her. Its eyes narrowed and it flexed its muscles menacingly. Taking a deep breath, she summoned as much power as she could and forced it through her wand as she called "confundus!" hoping that there were no death eaters on the other side of the door to hear her. The spell only partially worked. The troll stumbled backward before shaking its head and stumbling forward, the club slamming the ground in front of it. Tamara had to dive to avoid it and slid across the stone floor, gaining a nasty graze on her arm as a result. She scrambled for the door and narrowly missed another hit from the troll's club as she flung herself through.

She closed the door behind her, panting. As she managed to catch her breath, however, voices began to chatter nearby. She plunged her hand into her pocket, but began to panic when she realised that she hadn't brought the last of the packets of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder with her. Deciding to try and formulate a decent cloaking spell if she managed to get out of this, she turned and ran down the corridor as fast as her legs would carry her. She found herself ploughing through a corridor she didn't recognise and after trying to decipher her way through another maze of corridors she turned a corner and came face to face with a being that cast an immediate sense of dread over her. It was a dementor. All at once, a barrage of memories flooded her mind; terrible memories of a childhood in which her adoptive father had been absent more times than not, and the feeling of exhaustion and stress that she had felt in her fifth year at Hogwarts filled her body as she remembered what it had been like to collapse. She remembered receiving the news that she was adopted and the terrible legacy she had inherited and how it had turned everything in her world upside down. She remembered losing her friends and the terrible things Jez had said, and finally she remembered what it had been like to face Voldemort. Everything came flooding back to her, filling her with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. Her knees began to tremble and she sank to the ground as her legs gave way beneath her. The last thing she saw was the large burly figure of a death eater stepping out from behind the dementor, grinning a dark toothy grin... and then everything went black.

* * *

When Tamara awakened once more, light flooded her vision. She squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When she could finally make out her surroundings she saw that she was lying on the cold stone floor of a very small room. The room contained one small window and a large wooden door that closed her in. She tried to push herself into a sitting position but as soon as she did searing pain filled her head and she doubled over, pressing her fingers to her temple.

At that moment, the door creaked loudly. Tamara looked up to see who had entered. To her utter shock, she saw the face of Adelaide looking down at her, her familiar blonde tresses tumbling over her shoulders. Adelaide was smiling at her, but her face was utterly devoid of kindness. It was a look that filled Tamara with dread.

"Adelaide, what happened to you?" She asked, incredulously, her voice hoarse and strained. Adelaide knelt and looked Tamara in the eye, speaking in a sinister whisper.

"You betrayed me Tamara. You said you would help me. You left me to rot in the closed ward at St. Mungo's. You didn't even come to visit me. Do you have any idea what it was like in there?" Adelaide stood up. "You condemned me to hell, Tamara, and I hate you for it." At that, Adelaide turned away, folding her arms across her chest as she faced the wall in bitterness. "But you know, there _was _someone who helped me. _Your father_ took me in. He helped me when no-one else would. He is a great man. You don't deserve to share his blood."

When Adelaide spoke of Tamara's father her voice became tinged with a strange sense of pride that filled Tamara with dread all over again. She longed to know who her father was. She longed to fit the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle that was her identity. She longed to know with such an intense yearning that her hands began to shake. But Adelaide's tone frightened her. A small seed in the pit of her stomach told her that whoever he was he couldn't be anyone good.

"Please see reason, Adelaide. There was nothing I could do. They wouldn't let me." Tamara pleaded, terrified that her once sweet and good-natured friend could be filled with so much hatred. To her horror, however, Adelaide let out a high, shrill laugh.

"Poor naive girl." She said, looking back at Tamara again, her eyes filled with coldness.

Tamara tried to swallow but the lump caught in her throat and her eyes began to sting. Silently, she cursed herself. Now was not the time to cry. "At least take me to him." She forced the unwilling words. "Take me to my father." She tried to push away the dread she felt at the thought of the man Adelaide had referred to. She couldn't deny that she longed to know him, despite her fear and despite the terrible situation she was now in.

A horrible smile spread over Adelaide's face as she nodded in response. "As you wish. I believe he is expecting you." She said, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room, leaving the door open so that Tamara could follow. The wounds on her back and arm were throbbing painfully and her muscles ached, but she forced herself to her feet and painstakingly followed Adelaide. Once outside the little room she had awoken in, she found herself in a corridor that was lined with doors; containment cells, she realised with alarm. Adelaide led her around a corner and through a door at the very end of a long corridor. This door took them outside the building. Grass stretched around them but for the most part it was gnarled and brown. Adelaide led the way down a path and into a large patch of trees. After a while, the trees gave way to a clearing that was filled with robed figures. The robed figures seemed to be surrounding someone and stood back when they saw Adelaide, allowing her room to approach. When they drew nearer, Tamara realised with horror that Adelaide was taking her to Voldemort.

"My Lord, your daughter requests an audience with you." She said, kneeling before him. He placed a hand on top of her head and Adelaide rose to her feet once more and stood back.

Tamara froze with shock as nausea and dread filled her body. It couldn't be true... Voldemort couldn't be her father... could he? Wildly, she gazed at the people surrounding Voldemort; his death eaters. They were all unmasked and she recognised none of them except Draco Malfoy who stood beside Adelaide, and Snape who stood at Voldemort's side. Their faces were expressionless, betraying no mocking looks and she saw not a hint of sympathy from Snape, though she didn't expect to. She knew he couldn't do so without risking revealing his position. Tamara fought back the tears that threatened to spill over, determined not to cry in front of Voldemort. She was determined not to give him that satisfaction.

"My daughter, we have been brought together at last." He said, stepping toward her. A smile flickered across his face, though it was unlike any smile she had ever seen. It was cold and yet not so. It wasn't quite a smirk, though it wasn't a warm and comforting smile either.

"It can't be true. It just can't be true." She found herself whispering, over and over. She squeezed her eyes shut as though it was all a terrible dream that might disappear when she opened them again. When she did open her eyes, however, the scene had not changed.

"Of course, I didn't know it myself until recently." Voldemort remarked, almost lazily. "I never knew that Rosalyn had a child until your psychic friend foolishly revealed it to me last year. That was when I realised. That was when I understood."

"What do you mean?" Tamara found herself asking, finally looking up to meet his eyes. When her gaze locked onto his she found herself unable to look away... appalled and yet shockingly fascinated at the same time at all that was being revealed to her.

"Perhaps you would like to see for yourself." He told her, an eerie lightness in his voice. Immediately he turned to Draco. "Prepare the pensieve." He commanded, his tone immediately taking on a terrible coldness. Draco bowed and hurried away, returning a moment later with a large stone bowl that was etched with runes. The bowl stood alone on four tall legs and Draco placed it between Voldemort and Tamara. Voldemort raised his wand to his temple and drew out a long string of something that looked oddly like the souls in the jars back in Gringotts. He placed the substance into the bowl where it began to swirl, lazily. "This is my memory of what happened. View it if you wish."

They both knew that she couldn't refuse such an offer no matter how much her instincts warned her against it. They both knew that she burned with a desire for information. Forcing her hands not to shake, she gripped the bowl and slowly leant forward. All at once a slew of images rushed up at her and with the strange sensation of being on a roller coaster that had begun to plummet, the scene surrounding her suddenly changed.

**# Warning; NC-17/R18+ scene ahead #**

_A dark cobbled street led to a large dilapidated house which loomed over head. All was quiet except for the low hum of voices behind the house. Tamara edged closer towards the house until the voices became more distinct. A struggle was evidently taking place. She followed a small path that took her around the side of the house and led to a small courtyard. There she saw a woman that she had only ever seen in photographs; her Mother. Rosalyn was locked in an angry argument with Voldemort. Each had their wands pointed at the other. Voldemort was imploring her to relinquish her magic. When she refused, he threatened to take it from her by force. Rosalyn reacted violently and shot a hex at him. He countered with one of his own, much to the delight of the small band of Death Eaters who surrounded them. Tamara recognised a couple of them from the woodland gathering, but the rest were unfamiliar and Snape was not among them._

_After a tense few minutes of struggle, Voldemort nodded imperceptibly to the Death Eater standing behind Rosalyn. Immediately, the death eater raised his wand and Rosalyn fell to the ground, trapped in a full body bind. Voldemort walked forward and menacingly stood over her, looks of excitement on the faces of the death eaters. He raised his wand and her body copied it, rising in the air. Rosalyn tried to struggle, though ultimately this was useless, and terror flashed in her eyes. Voldemort began to walk away from the house, continuing to hold his wand in the air which had the result of dragging the bound Rosalyn along behind him. The death eaters followed, looks of pride and power-driven lust on their faces, which remained unmasked in the privacy of this dark congregation._

_Shadows began to lick at the party as they drew farther and farther away from the house. All trace of the street behind them disappeared from view, leaving only the stark bare branches of the trees and the coarse hedges that looked like forlorn shadows of former beings crying out for sustenance. Finally, Voldemort stopped before a large stone table. He lowered his wand, pointing the tip at the table's surface, and Rosalyn's tightly bound body came to rest there. Voldemort removed her invisible bonds but she was afforded little time to do anything before the death eaters rushed forward to hold her in place. Standing over her, Voldemort raised his wand before him and began to chant._

_Desperation flashed in Rosalyn's eyes and she resumed her struggle. Eventually, her flailing enabled her to free an arm and she grasped her wand once more. She raised a magical shield around herself and fired a hex at Voldemort. In his surprise, the hex knocked him backward. Fury crossed his face and darkened his eyes. For a fleeting moment, Rosalyn froze. It was one thing to fight Voldemort on equal terms, but she had never seen him display rage like this. This momentary lapse in concentration, however, was all Voldemort needed. He plunged his wand into her shield, forcing as much magic into it as he could in his fit of anger. After a moment, the shield broke. The death eaters rushed forward to once more hold her arms in place and Voldemort bent over the table. This time, he looked different. He was leering at her in an expression that was mixed with both rage and lust and it shot fear through every fibre of her being. _

_Voldemort reached for her black trousers, grabbing a handful of the material in his cold spindly fingers. With one strong yank, her trousers had ripped at the seams. Another strong pull and they fell apart, revealing a pair of white knickers. Voldemort threw the tattered trousers on the ground and reached for Rosalyn's knickers. She tried to kick, but Voldemort immediately drew his wand and pointed it between her eyes. She quietened, a devastating air of defeat spreading over her. _

_It didn't take long before Rosalyn's knickers had joined her trousers in a heap on the ground. The death eaters began to cheer raucously in encouragement. Voldemort parted his robes and descended on her, violating her body until his climax came crashing over him and spilling into her. After it had all finished, Voldemort gave the death eaters permission to release Rosalyn and she fell from the table in her haste to escape. Terrified and broken, she used the last of her remaining strength to pull herself back to her feet and she ran, holding what was left of her clothes in place, with the cruel laughter of the death eaters following her, echoing on into the night. _

All of a sudden the scene melted away and Tamara was yanked back to the present. She doubled over, retching with revulsion at what Voldemort had done to her Mother... at how she had been conceived. She was doubly stained, doubly cursed, to be the child of Voldemort as well as the result of a horrific assault. Unable to stay a moment longer she turned and fled, tears wetting her cheeks as she ran.

The death eaters moved to run after her, raising their wands, but Voldemort held up his hand. "Let her go." He commanded, a nasty knowing smile appearing on his face. "She will be back."


	25. Stained

**Author Note:** Thanks again to Wendy Waddles for being kind enough to beta-read for me. Very much appreciated! Thanks to Errorofways7, Holly, and Wendy Waddles for your reviews. I'm glad the revelation of who Tamara's father is came as a surprise. Thanks also to Queensgambit, MszMaNgOz, Patrialevet for adding my little story to your alert lists. I am humbled!

Hope you enjoy this chapter and the next will be up on Friday the 1st of October. Happy reading!

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**Chapter 25 – Stained**

_~ Am I kin to Sorrow,  
That so oft  
Falls the knocker of my door -  
Neither loud nor soft,  
But as long accustomed,  
Under Sorrow's hand?  
Marigolds around the step  
And rosemary stand,  
And then comes Sorrow -  
And what does Sorrow care  
For the rosemary  
Or the marigolds there?  
Am I kin to Sorrow?  
Are we kin? ~_

_- Edna St. Vincent Millay_

Voldemort kept the death eaters with him for a long time that night. For Snape it was torturous. He, along with the other death eaters, had only discovered that Voldemort was Tamara's biological father when Adelaide had approached and declared it. It had taken all of his strength to retain his emotionless expression. His surprise had been two-fold, though. He had not known that Adelaide had become a death eater, either, and wondered what Voldemort had done to convince her to join his ranks. Snape was not, by any means, the only death eater who had been given the task of training the new recruits. Voldemort had never taken the risk of allowing any single death eater to know all of his secrets, or the identities of all of the other death eaters. Voldemort didn't trust any of his minions entirely and wasn't one to risk betrayal.

The very idea that Voldemort had been the one to sire Tamara was a thought that Snape found difficult to come to terms with. Despite his forced and unwilling allegiance, he hated the Dark Lord and the thought that the woman he loved actually shared blood with him was agonizing. Despite his turbulence of emotions, though, he couldn't help but stare at her. What he saw was a face etched with revulsion and horror, and then Voldemort had offered her his memory. Snape could see that Tamara was plainly torn over this. She didn't want to see what terrible things Voldemort had injected into her past and yet her need to know the family history that she had been devoid of proved to be stronger. With trepidation, she had walked forward to finally see the truth.

None of the death eaters had been able to see what Tamara had seen in the pensieve, but it was clear from her reaction afterward that it had been nothing short of horrific. Anger began to smoulder in the pit of Snape's stomach at the thought of what Voldemort could have done, and how much that action had hurt her. In that instant, knowing that he felt such anger and hatred toward the wizard that had hurt her so much, he knew he couldn't and wouldn't allow this new revelation to pollute his feelings for her. He loved her and that was all that mattered. Perhaps he could even help her to deal with it. After all, he had been irrevocably stained by the Dark Lord as well. Not in a biological sense, but by the dark mark. So long as Voldemort lived, Snape would always be tainted and would always bound by the mark.

It was at that moment, however, that Snape heard a familiar voice beside him. It was startling, because the voice didn't appear to belong to any visible body and after a moment he realised that it was Dumbledore. The old man sounded as wise and comforting as he always had. "Stained, my boy?" Dumbledore remarked. "Only if you choose to think so. The fact of the matter is that Voldemort is an exceptionally talented and powerful wizard. It was his choice, and his choice alone, to use that talent for evil, just as it is Tamara's choice to use it for good. She doesn't have to be tarnished by the same brush as Voldemort and perhaps if she were to be reminded of this it might help her come to terms with what has happened." At that, Dumbledore's disembodied voice fell silent and the words resounded in Snape's mind for a long time as began to suspect that they were not only intended for Tamara but perhaps for himself as well, and he felt his strength renewed ten-fold for having such a poignant reminder.

Nonetheless, the remainder of the Death Eater's meeting with Voldemort was arduous, and every minute seemed to stretch for an age. Snape yearned to go after Tamara. She was devastated thanks to Voldemort, and she had been left to deal with it alone. Snape needed to be with her, to comfort her, and every breath he drew that kept him away from her gave him more pain than he could bear.

At long last the meeting came to a close and on Voldemort's command, the Death Eaters began to disapparate. Snape, however, remained behind, his mind in a flurry of thoughts. The one thing that still bothered him about this latest revelation was how Tamara would cope with it, and how much she would need his support. This was frustrating, because his current assignment meant that it would be difficult to really be there for her very much. He had, however, been mulling an alternative over in his fast working mind, but it would very much depend on Voldemort's favour, and not many Death Eaters were brave enough to risk making suggestions to their Lord if they could help it. Snape was about to make such a suggestion now, and he fervently hoped that his good standing with Voldemort would gained him a favourable response.

With a heaviness weighing on his shoulders, and disgust for the wizard he served etched into his heart if not his face, he approached Voldemort and knelt before him.

"Rise, Severus, and speak." Voldemort commanded, his voice mirthless and unimpressed.

"Thank you, my Lord." Snape replied, rising to his feet once more. "If I may be so bold, I believe it may be of value if I were to be given permission to approach your daughter. She has attended my classes for six years which has afforded me the benefit of coming to know her personality. I know her to have tendency to be rather _impetuous_ at times," Snape chose the word carefully. He knew Tamara to be fiery and passionate, but it seemed more appropriate to choose different wording when discussing her with the Dark Lord. "Given that she is familiar with me as an associate and long-term teacher, I might be in a position to coax her toward a better understanding of our principles, my Lord." He explained, hoping that Voldemort wouldn't simply crucio him on the spot for speaking impertinently.

"You speak highly of yourself." Voldemort replied, with an emotionless laugh.

"Forgive me. I meant only that I have a prior association with her, thanks to my position at Hogwarts, and that it may be of use to you."

Voldemort considered his words, the light in his red eyes reflecting eerily on his surroundings. "I am confident that her natural curiosity concerning her biological identity will drive her back to me eventually, but I admit I see the value in what you suggest. I think that a little extra _insurance _will benefit me greatly indeed. You have proven yourself to be both loyal and useful these past years, Severus. You have my permission to go to her." At that, Voldemort paused and drew out his wand. Pointing it at Snape's heart, he went on. "Know this. If you fail me, it will not be worth your life. You have been warned. Now go."

With that, Snape nodded respectfully and disapparated, relieved that he had actually been given permission to spend more time with Tamara.

* * *

When Tamara had fled the woodland scene she'd had a moment of panic, realising that she had no idea where she was or whether she was even in London anymore. She ran past the large building that housed the containment cells and found a further expanse of trees. She sobbed at the thought that not only was she alone and hurting, but that she was also completely lost. But something was sparkling between the trees now, and she felt strangely compelled to find out what it was. And so, she found herself heading towards the trees.

Emerging through the trees, she came face to face with what appeared to be a portal. It was mirror-like and its surface shimmered, ripples blowing across it in the wind. As she leaned in for a closer look, she realised that she could see what looked like the corridors of Gringotts on the other side. It seemed that not only had Voldemort let her go, but that he had also provided her with the means to return home, though she didn't stop to consider what this meant. Hoping that the portal would indeed transport her back to Gringotts, she took a deep breath and threw herself through the shimmering silvery surface.

To her relief, there seemed to be nothing sinister about the portal and she found herself back in the familiar corridors of Gringotts. The portal disappeared as soon as she had stepped through, and she began to hurry through the corridors. As she turned a corner, she came face to face with one of the death eaters that she recognised from the woodland gathering. To her surprise, he stood back and pointed toward one of the many turns. Not stopping to fathom this second strange occurrence, she simply ran in the direction indicated and soon found herself tumbling back through the barrier into Diagon Alley.

* * *

When she finally arrived home, the apartment was empty as Elizabeth had not yet returned from the night shift. Tamara, faced with nothing to occupy her thoughts now that the return journey was over, found a fresh bout of tears streaming down her face and felt her body begin to shiver with a strange sense of emptiness.

If Elizabeth had been one to keep bottles of alcohol in the house, she almost certainly would have begun to devour her cousin's stores. As Elizabeth did not, which was perhaps fortunate for Tamara, she settled for a cup of tea instead. But as soon as Tamara had raised the steaming mug with a shaky hand to take a sip, she had put the mug down again and bolted toward the bathroom. Throwing herself down onto the cold tiled floor, she bent her head over the toilet bowl and vomited. After her stomach had emptied itself of its contents, she simply flopped against the bathroom room wall like a puppet with no strings.

Eventually, Tamara finally summoned the strength to pull herself to her feet and stumbled awkwardly toward the shower. Turning the cold tap on, she stepped beneath the icy jet of water... clothes, shoes and all.

* * *

Snape appeared in the apartment, apparating with a 'pop'. It seemed empty, except for an abandoned cup of tea on the kitchen bench and the faint sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Cautiously, he made his way down the rear corridors of the apartment and found that the bathroom door had been left open. Tamara was standing fully clothed beneath the shower jet and didn't appear to notice him, though he wasted no time in walking toward the shower and pulled back the shower curtain.

Tamara gasped as she finally laid eyes on him. Relief seemed to light her whole face to find him standing there, as she tried desperately to convince herself that it was not a dream. Snape stepped straight into the shower with her and remained fully clothed as well, not wanting to waste another moment. He pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her, tightly, as the cold water began to seep into his long black robes and started to weigh them down. It did not matter. All that mattered was that they were together and that she was safely in his embrace.

After a moment, he carefully reached for the tap and gently turned on the hot water just enough to keep them both warm. Tamara pressed herself as tightly to Snape as she could, clinging to his sodden robes as though she were a child who had just found a long absent favourite toy. He held her just as tightly, and they stood like that beneath the pouring water until long after Tamara's tears had finally subsided.

It was Tamara who eventually moved to turn off the shower and for a moment they regarded each other in their thoroughly soaked clothes. Snape suddenly became all too aware that her blouse had become enticingly transparent in the water, but immediately cursed himself. This was not the moment for such thoughts. Tamara seemed to realise that he had noticed, and though a soft hint of pink began to creep over her cheeks she made no move to cover herself. Modesty was the last thing on her mind after all that had happened that night.

She stepped out of the shower, took some towels out of the cupboard, and began to unbutton her blouse. Since it was already transparent enough to reveal what lay beneath it, she saw no sense in trying to hide her body now and she remarked to herself that it even felt liberating to be so open with her nakedness, as she dropped her blouse on the floor and stepped out of her jeans.

Snape let out an audible gasp as he watched Tamara unabashedly undress before him. Her skin was smooth with hints of an olive tinge. Her long brown hair fell in matted waves over her shoulders and her breasts were perky and supple. Doing his utmost to curb his thoughts and retain a cool and appropriate manner, he stepped toward her. Reaching for one of the towels she had taken out of the cupboard, he draped it over her shoulders and wrapped it around her.

She gazed up at him, seeming to wait for him to act and it took a moment for him to realise that it was now his turn to undress. After all, he couldn't stay in his heavy, soaking robes. Unexpectedly nervous, he began to fumble with his buttons. Tamara gently reached forward to help and when all of the buttons were undone, she slid the wet garment from his shoulders to reveal a slender but toned torso. She ran her hands over his chest, delighting in the smattering of chest hair that she found there but after a moment she paused, seeming to understand his modesty when it came to revealing any more of himself.

"I'll be in the bedroom. You know where the towels are." She whispered, though thanks to her sobbing, her voice was rough. He nodded in response, offering a small smile in appreciation.

Once in her room, Tamara patted herself dry and exchanged the towel for a simple but elegant black bra and knickers and settled herself on the bed. When Snape joined her a moment later, he was clad in nothing more than the towel he had wrapped about his waist, as there had been nothing for him to change into. He appeared to be content, though he was momentarily overcome with breathlessness when he saw that she had chosen to wear an attractive set of underwear instead of her usual pyjamas. He placed his wand on the bedside table and settled himself beside her on the bed, taking care not dislodge his towel, and pulled her into his arms again, gently kissing her forehead as she snuggled into the embrace.

They lay in silence like that for a time, his hands gently stroking the soft skin on her back until he inadvertently found the wound she had received when she had tried to go through the force-field protecting the entrance to Diagon Alley. Tamara flinched in his arms and grimaced. Snape leaned forward to glance over her shoulder and came face to face with a gaping burn that was now seeping clear fluid.

"I can heal that for you." He told her.

Tamara shook her head. "Not yet." She said, quietly. "I want to stay in your arms just a little while longer."

"I really think I should take a look at it. You don't want it to get infected. It won't take long and I'm not going anywhere." He tried to reason with her.

"Won't _they _miss you?" She asked, pointedly.

"Not this time. The Dark Lord has given me a new assignment. You."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"I am to protect you, and I am to gain your trust."

"My trust? I am _not _going back there, if that's what you mean!" She exclaimed, tears glistening in her eyes again."

"Ssh my love. You need not concern yourself with it yet. Concentrate on how much time we will be able to spend together now."

"I suppose so." With that she fell silent and allowed herself to be turned onto her stomach so that he could inspect the wound on her back properly.

After a moment, he reached for his wand and began to trace the edges of the burn, muttering under his breath in Latin. He repeated this action for several painstaking minutes until finally he told her that she could turn over again.

"It will continue to heal throughout the night. I will make a tincture for it in the morning. Do you have any other injuries?"

"Only my arm, but it's not so bad." She replied, holding her arm out for him to see. He held her arm up in front of him, gently, as he took a closer look and drew his wand across the graze as he had done before. This one didn't take as long to heal, as the graze was only a superficial scratch, and before long Snape had put his wand away again and was once more drawing her into a tight embrace.

For a moment a look flashed across Tamara's eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly. It seemed almost as though she yearned to ask something, but when she didn't he chose not to push her and contented himself with stroking her drying hair. After a moment of gazing deeply into her eyes, she suddenly blurted out what she had been longing to know.

"Did you know about this?" She asked, flatly.

"No, I did not." He answered her honestly, even though her bluntness took him aback. "I suspect that only Miss McKenzie had any idea of the truth. The other Death Eaters were as surprised as I was to learn about your _connection _to _him._" He explained, trying to steer clear of specifically mentioning her biological relationship to the Dark Lord. "I wish I could have come to you sooner. It was agony waiting for that meeting to end. If I had been able to choose, I would have been at your side in an instant. I want you to know that." He said, earnestly, holding her hand tightly in his.

"I understand." She said, her voice barely a whisper as she suddenly began to feel very small. "Is this why I could get into Diagon Alley so easily the first time?" She asked.

"I believe so." He responded, quietly.

"How come it was different this time? The force-field gave me that burn on my back. If I didn't have my shield, anything could have happened!" She exclaimed, both indignant and confused.

"I cannot be certain. The Dark Lord has been displeased with the behaviour of some of the Death Eaters of late and I suspect that he is less than willing to risk that particular project becoming accessible to the imbeciles. In any case, security has been tightened in almost every area. This means that I am in a fortunate position with the Dark Lord, though, since he trusts me to protect you."

Silence fell over the room as Tamara digested this new revelation. Snape wanted to ask what she had seen in the pensieve, but the expression on her face before she had fled told him that it was a delicate subject and that perhaps it would be better left for her to talk about in her own time.

When Tamara spoke once more, she changed the topic. "Dumbledore made a big mistake." She suddenly realised.

"I'm not sure I follow." He responded with surprise.

"He cast a concealment charm over Elizabeth so _he _wouldn't be able to find her, but it was designed so that only blood relatives would be able to locate her. If _he _is my biological father, then wouldn't that mean..." Her words trailed off, and she felt a pang of shame that for the first time she hadn't been able to say Voldemort's name.

Snape considered this for a moment. "The Dark Lord isn't related to Elizabeth by blood. It's possible that he may have been excluded from those the charm allows to trace her."

"It's possible, perhaps, but I don't want to wait to find out!" She exclaimed, worried for her cousin. She didn't want to lose the last true family member that she had.

"Then we will perform the fidelius charm in the morning. Did Professor Flitwick ever discuss it in Charms class?"

"He mentioned it once. I read about it properly for an essay, though. It's the magical concealment of a secret within a person, isn't it? We just need to decide which of us it will be."

"Elizabeth will be safe until morning. I think for now you should concentrate on getting some rest." He told her, his velvety voice wonderfully soothing. She nodded, knowing that it would be better to think of such things with a clearer head after a good night's sleep. "As you fall asleep tonight, take this thought with you; you may have inherited the Dark Lord's magical talent and skill, but where he chooses to use it for evil, you are still free to use it for good. That choice is in your hands." He told her, echoing the words that Dumbledore had told him earlier that night. She smiled; the first true smile he had seen all night. It was a gift to him to see it.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?" She asked, gazing at him sincerely.

"I promise, Tamara." He told her, kissing her on the forehead before extracting himself from the bed so that he could turn down the dimmer switch to soften the lights. Snape forgot about the towel that had been delicately balanced around his waist and as he got up it promptly dropped to the floor. His breath caught sharply in his throat at the shock of being disrobed so suddenly. Nonetheless, he left the towel where it was as he crossed the room to turn the lights down to a soft glow.

Tamara watched him with fascination; from his raven black hair that sat just above the shoulders, to his bare back and his bared and firm buttocks. It was an incredibly suggestive image. As he turned back toward the bed, he stopped to reach for the towel. Without quite knowing why she did it, Tamara reached forward to grab his hand, stopping him before he could take hold of the towel. He took another sharp breath as his heart started to pound in his chest, feeling keenly erotic at the thought that his nakedness was so utterly exposed to her.

He slowly rejoined Tamara on the bed and pulled the covers over them both. She curled a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he snaked his arms around her. It was utterly thrilling to feel himself pressed against her in such a manner, and he wondered how on earth he had contained himself from being so close to her before.

"You are beautiful." He whispered, gently nibbling her ear. Tamara felt a wave of electric shivers wash over her at the simple gesture. _Thank goodness for Severus_, she thought to herself as the oblivion of his closeness, and finally sleep, washed over her.


	26. The Plan

**Author Note:** Goodness so many kind reviews of the last chapter! I'm absolutely thrilled! Considering the revelation of Tamara's biological father was such a major plot point I really wanted to do those chapters justice so I'm glad you all liked it.

Thanks to Dontgotaclue88, Katiebellxplayer, Wendy Waddles, Elza, and Aslan Eyes for reviewing. Some of you are just starting to read, so I hope you continue to enjoy it. I think I've responded to most of you personally who left signed reviews, but Katie you weren't signed in so I will just quickly say that I'm glad you found the scenes touching and yep Snape did his best to be strong for her even if he doesn't like what's happened. That's mostly because he's just being protective of the woman he loves, though, as you will see a bit more here.

Thanks also to VampireLover10101 and Dontgotaclue88 for adding my story to your lists.

Well, without further ado here is the next chapter. Again, not so much of an action chapter but I need to give my characters a break every once in a while otherwise they'd probably start to lose their marbles a bit! LOL! It should still be an interesting one, though, so I hope it doesn't disappoint. Happy reading and as always the next chapter will be ready for you next friday (8/10/10 West Australian time).

* * *

**Chapter 26 – The Plan**

The next morning, Snape was standing at the kitchen bench. Wearing nothing more than a pair of black boxers (his clothes were now dry), he tapped a teapot with his wand and steam immediately began to pour out of the spout thanks to the tea that had now appeared within. As he was arranging cups, sugar and milk on a tray, the front door suddenly opened and slammed shut again. Elizabeth was home. She immediately made for the kitchen and stopped short when she saw the barely clad Snape.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." She said, unceremoniously. Though they got on for Tamara, neither had quite forgotten the mutual enmity that they had experienced during their first meeting.

"I am here for Tamara's sake." He told her, irritably.

"It's about time." Elizabeth muttered, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"For your information," Snape shot at her, "she went through a terrible ordeal last night and she will need us both to support her. Quite frankly, I care very little that you feel animosity toward me, but for now perhaps your emotions would be better placed if they were redirected toward consoling Tamara." His words were pointed and his coal black eyes were locked, inescapably, on hers.

"Oh my goodness, is she okay? Is she hurt?" Elizabeth immediately asked, her annoyance at finding Snape in her kitchen giving way to her concern for her cousin.

"She is alright, and sustained only minor injuries that I have begun to heal for her. It is the emotional blow she suffered that has caused the trauma. She seems to feel better now that she has slept, but there is no doubt that the shock will be take some time to overcome." His voice was smooth and gentle now. He cared only for Tamara's well-being and didn't want to waste unnecessary energy on fruitless hostility.

"Emotional blow? What on earth happened to her?" Elizabeth asked, worried and confused.

"She met her biological father last night, but I think it would be more appropriate if the details were better left to her to tell _in her own time_." Snape told her, the emphasis dripping from his words. The last thing Tamara would need right now was to rehash everything when she wasn't ready. Elizabeth nodded in understanding and agreement and followed the tray-laden Snape into the living room where a now pyjama-clad Tamara was curled up on the couch. Snape placed the tray on the coffee table and busied himself with pouring the tea while Elizabeth sat down beside Tamara and drew her cousin into a tight hug. When they broke apart, Snape handed Tamara a steaming cup of tea which she gratefully accepted.

"How are you feeling now?" He gently asked, perching himself on the arm of the couch and slipping an arm around her.

"I don't feel quite so much shock anymore." She admitted. "I can't help but feel dirty, though. I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea."

"Oh sweetheart, we're here for you." Elizabeth cut in, squeezing Tamara's hand.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Tamara drank her tea, Snape obviously uncomfortable with the notion of family togetherness.

"Do you have any potion ingredients?" He finally asked.

"What for?" She began to ask but realisation quickly dawned on her. "Oh, for the tincture. There's some in my Hogwarts trunk in my wardrobe." Tamara reached behind her to rub the almost healed burn wound on her back as Snape disappeared from the room. When he reappeared, he was fully dressed again and was heading toward the kitchen with Tamara's cauldron and an armful of ingredients. Elizabeth watched as he went, clearly fascinated at the idea of magical healing, before turning back to her cousin.

"He told me a little bit about what happened to you last night," Elizabeth began in a quiet voice, referring to the conversation she'd had with Snape in the kitchen, "but he thought you should be the one to tell me the details when you're ready. You don't have to tell me who your father is, but I just want you to know that whoever it is and whatever you might feel toward him, it won't change my opinion of you."

Tamara smiled at her, bracingly, before her expression darkened. "Voldemort." She said, simply, though to say his name after all that she had seen in the pensieve came at a great cost to her. The colour immediately drained from Elizabeth's face.

"Him? How?" She was confused. It seemed unfathomable that her aunt Rosalyn could have become entangled in that way with the very wizard she was supposed to have been fighting against.

"He raped her. I saw it for myself when he showed me his memory in the pensieve." Tamara replied, darkly, every word requiring great effort. Elizabeth didn't know what a pensieve was, but it was at that moment that Snape chose to announce his presence. He had returned from the kitchen in time to hear what Tamara had said.

"So that's what he did." Snape said in a hardened voice. His face was etched with cold anger. It was an expression that would have frightened anyone who didn't know him as well as Tamara did.

"I know how you must feel, Severus. Don't you think I don't hate him for what he did? But it's been done and there's nothing that we can do that will change that. What we can do, though, is plan what our next move should be." Tamara spoke matter-of-factly. She knew, now, that blind rage would not help in their fight against the dark forces, but deep inside she knew that she still couldn't quite erase the grief and anger that she felt. Snape turned on the spot without a word and walked back into the kitchen.

Tamara sighed and followed him a few moments later, finding him vigorously stirring the concoction that bubbled in the cauldron. She placed a hand on his arm.

"I will never be okay with being Voldemort's daughter, but I am determined not to let him get to me and I need you more than ever to help me stay strong." She said, softly. At that, Snape put the spoon in the sink and extinguished the flames beneath the cauldron before turning to pulling her into his arms and placing a swift kiss on her lips.

* * *

Snape's potion hadn't taken long to brew though it had to sit on the bench to cool, and as it cooled he spent some time melting a chunk of paraffin wax before adding the potion to it and then leaving the mixture to cool and solidify over the course of the day. Elizabeth was just rising from a refreshing sleep (she had needed it after her gruelling night shift at the hospital) when Snape was transferring the finished tincture to a small container.

"How does it work?" She asked, unable to help her curiosity. Snape gave her a wry smile and motioned for her to follow him. In the living room, Tamara was lying on the couch waiting, her back revealing the twisted knot that was the remains of her burn. Snape gave the container to Elizabeth with the instruction to gently cover the scar with a thin layer of the tincture. Elizabeth knelt on the floor beside Tamara and set to work and it wasn't long before the scar had been completely covered with the tincture. Elizabeth placed the container on the coffee table and moved aside to make room for Snape who began to draw his wand over the tincture covered scar, chanting softly in Latin. A moment later, the layer of tincture began to glow and then it suddenly disappeared, leaving behind it Tamara's entirely scarless and wound-free back. Elizabeth gasped in astonishment and Tamara smiled to herself, glad that Elizabeth and Snape were finally beginning to bond.

* * *

The next week brought with it the close of October. Though Snape couldn't stay with them every day, he came as often as he could and in the end Tamara got to see a great deal of him. He even took to coaching her as she studied, with the result that when she attended her lessons at the Ministry on her requisite two days a week, Mr Beadle was increasingly impressed with her work and agreed that she had caught up enough that she could have a normal work load again.

As Halloween approached, neither of the girls felt up to having the usual festivities and decorations and it was Snape who suggested an alternative that they both immediately liked. Halloween, or All Hallow's Eve, traditionally marked the day that the veil between the spirit world and the world of the living was thinnest, making it a day to remember the dearly departed. Elizabeth prepared dinner for the three of them and Tamara adorned the table and the dining room with candles and name cards and placemats. She set a place for each of them; Elizabeth, Snape and herself, and included two extra places for Rosalyn and Dumbledore, with a tealight candles at the centre of their placemats. The trio ate in silence that night, with the only exception being a short memorial speech offered by Tamara for all those who had lost their lives fighting in the war.

As the beginning of November came upon them, the issue of planning their next move for the war effort was raised once more. Ever since the night in the clearing with Voldemort, the result of Tamara's botched mission to save the souls imprisoned in Gringotts, she hadn't had the heart to wear Dumbledore's ring. Instead, she had kept it safely hidden in her room, magically concealed at the back of her wardrobe. Now she was sat at the table and had it with her once more, turning it over and over in her hands.

This had raised an important question that they were still yet to answer: what did Voldemort want with the poor imprisoned souls? In considering this, Snape couldn't shake the task that Voldemort had entrusted to him; to ensure that Tamara returned to him. But it also gave Snape an idea. Tamara could use her relationship with Voldemort to her advantage. Perhaps if she played her part well enough, he might entrust to her certain details concerning his plans for the imprisoned souls. When he shared this idea with Tamara, she was less than happy. In fact she was angry. She was angry that he had promised Voldemort that he would return her to him, and she was angry that she now had to pretend that she was happy to be his daughter. And although Elizabeth wasn't happy about the plan either, she at least saw its value and understood that it was one of the few viable options that was available to them. With resignation, Tamara agreed to consider the idea.

That evening, when Snape left to attend to his other death eater duties, Tamara sat alone in her room toying with Dumbledore's ring once more. After a while it began to feel warm and comfortable in her hands and finally she slipped it back on her finger. The feeling that overcame her was almost that of rediscovering an old friend. Suddenly, she jumped up from her sitting position on the bed and began searching through the stack of _Daily Prophet_ newspapers that sat beside her trunk in the wardrobe. At last she came across the one she was looking for and sat cross-legged with it on the bed. On the front cover was a large photograph of Dumbledore. This was the issue that had featured his obituary and several articles that had been written in tribute to him. Tamara stared at the photo in earnest, as though if she looked at it for long enough Dumbledore might step right out of the page to talk to her.

"I wish it wasn't Voldemort." She whispered into the silence. "I wish it was you." Like her amulet sometimes did, the ring seemed to respond to her yearning and in her heart she knew at last that it was love, not biology, that made a father and that she couldn't give up on the fight now. The cards were stacked in her favour and while she was still strong she would do whatever it took to win the war.

* * *

When Tamara awoke the next morning, she found Snape sitting on the end of her bed having returned from his duties once more. She smiled, Dumbledore's ring glinting on her finger in the early morning sunlight as she stretched. Snape couldn't help but notice it.

"Good morning, Tamara." He greeted, returning her smile and leaning forward to kiss her.

"I'm going to do it." She told him. "I've decided to go ahead with your plan."

"Tamara, I know it was my suggestion but I can't pretend that I'm happy at the thought of you going back there, though I am glad you have agreed to try. While some of the Death Eaters might have gained the trust of the Dark Lord, none have quite the same advantage as you. Know, though, that you won't have to go alone. I will be there with you, and I will make sure that you are as prepared for the meeting as you can be."

Feeling strengthened by this new motivation, they set to work almost immediately. Snape decided to begin her preparations with occlumency lessons, since she would be walking into the meeting with Voldemort with a lot to hide. These lessons proved to be much more strenuous than Tamara anticipated and in the end it was only in a fit of great frustration that she was able to repel Snape from invading her mind. Remembering some of the visualisation techniques that she used to practise with Thalia, however, helped a great deal and after a few days her mental defences slowly began to strengthen. A key factor in this success was her continued journey toward accepting the truth about her biological history. Acceptance seemed to give her a strength that grief could not and it was this strength that enabled her to unlock a new determination in her ability to utilise the well of magic that she had been born into.

As well as occlumency lessons, Tamara had Snape help her practise the exercises that he had taught her during their private lessons the previous year. Tamara was particularly anxious to continue on with this work as it had been these skills which had so far proved to be the most useful. But above all, the one thing that Snape impressed on her as being important was a sharp mind and quick thinking. She would need to know all the right things to say and do, and so Snape also spent a considerable amount of time teaching her the customary actions and manners that were most prized in the Death Eaters.

As the twilight of November came upon them, Tamara felt that she knew as much as she'd ever know about the Death Eaters and began to worry about how it would feel to return to Voldemort, to stand in his presence knowing what she now knew about him. And knowing how she truly felt about him, would she be able to convince Voldemort that she was sincere in her reason for returning to him? Would their plan work?


	27. Voldemort

**Author Note:** Thanks to Dontgotaclue88 and Wendy Waddles for reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying it and find it intriguing! Elza I received your private message and thanks for reading. I'm not quite sure I really understood what you were getting at, though, but no matter. I appreciate everyone taking the time to read and comment in whatever way! I am humbled that people have stuck with this story!

This chapter was definitely not an easy one to write so I hope it makes some sort of sense and reads okay.

As usual, the next chapter will be out next Friday (15/10/10). Happy reading!

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**Chapter 27 – Voldemort**

_~ And I have left the cold and dead_

_To mingle with the living cold: -_

_There is a weight around my head..._

_My heart is growing old..._

_My spirit fades before its time..._

_Oh for the wings that made thee blest,_

_To flee away, and be at rest! ~_

_- T.K. Hervey_

As the impending meeting with Voldemort drew closer, they all began to feel a certain amount of reluctance to go ahead with it so soon. Despite that the fact that Tamara and Snape had to work faster than they wished to ensure that Tamara was ready, she still had her well of vestigial magic that she had inherited from Rosalyn, and even Voldemort, and though it was still somewhat erratic, it was still powerful and Tamara felt safe and confident enough to use her amulet to direct that power toward forming a shield if she needed to. But it was occlumency that posed the real concern. While they had worked hard to help Tamara learn the art as fast as she could, two weeks had proved to be not nearly enough time and though she had finally grasped the basic tenets of the practise, her defences were not nearly strong enough to repel a powerful intrusion. Though Voldemort might choose not to invade his daughter's mind, it remained that he was an unscrupulous wizard who was not generally known for his filial sentiments and they could not afford to risk taking a gamble with her mental defences. And so, they turned their attentions now toward alternative measures.

To their surprise, it was Elizabeth who offered some suggestions. Taking Tamara's hand in hers, she inspected the ring that adorned her cousin's finger; the ring that Dumbledore had imbued with the essence of his own powers. "Couldn't Tamara use Dumbledore's ring? Wouldn't it protect her?" Elizabeth asked.

"I don't know whether I'm supposed to use it for this." Tamara replied.

"That may be so," Snape interjected, "but it is difficult to believe that Professor Dumbledore would have left us with such a magical aid if not to use it in times of need. Though there is also the possibility that the Dark Lord might recognise Professor Dumbledore's magic if it was wielded and if he guesses that the ring is anything more than an ordinary piece of jewellery and it fell into his hands then it will make him incredibly dangerous."

Tamara allowed it all to sift through her thoughts as she gazed upon the ring, allowing its warmth to cloak her. And all of a sudden, she knew deep down in her heart how the ring would work. "It's not mine to control." She surprised them by saying. "The ring will act when it sees fit and only in the hour of greatest need. That's how Dumbledore designed it."

Snape looked at her in surprise and narrowed his eyes. "That is an astute observation, Tamara. May I ask how you came to know that?"

Tamara smiled knowingly. "You know that the essence of Dumbledore's magic is tied to the ring. It speaks to me. I can feel him near me when I wear it."

A comfortable silence fell over the room. Snape watched Tamara with curiosity, his eyes falling on the ring. Since Tamara had begun wearing it, she had begun to speak in this way and when she did so it almost felt like Dumbledore was still with them. It was in these moments that he felt his confliction the most keenly. Whatever reasoning Dumbledore had given him for completing the task, in the end it had still been he who had been responsible for ending the old wizard's life and he still hadn't quite been able to forgive himself for having done so.

Elizabeth spoke up again and he shook himself out of his thoughts. "What about that pensieve thing?" She was saying. These words immediately grabbed Snape's attention. "I'm not exactly sure I understand how it works, but I remember Tamara saying something about being shown a memory in one. Is it something we could use?" She asked.

"Of course! It's perfect!" Tamara exclaimed, grinning. "I don't know where we would be able to get one, though. We can hardly ask..." She had been going to say "her father" but when it came to it, she simply couldn't say the word. In the end, though, she didn't need to. Snape caught her gaze and understood at once.

"Obviously we cannot borrow the Dark Lord's pensieve, and Professor Dumbledore's pensieve is likely still at Hogwarts. It may, however, be possible to arrange a makeshift alternative." At this, Tamara immediately leapt up and came hurrying back with her Mother's tattered old spellbook that she treasured. The three of them squashed together on Elizabeth's couch and Tamara took up residence on Snape's lap so that they could all see as she flipped through the pages.

After a considerable amount of time had passed, and after they had engaged in a considerable amount of debate, they settled on a form of barrier spell that could be cast on a container. Tamara allowed Snape to cast the spell and began to siphon a select amount of memories into the receptacle that they had chosen – a large bowl. It was an odd experience, parting with her memories in such a fashion. It made her feel oddly disjointed, as though her mind had been taken apart and put together again with bits missing. What struck Tamara the most, though, was that it wasn't quite like no longer being able remember those parts of her past, but rather it was like the cord connecting her conscious mind to those memories had been cut and they began to drift deeper and deeper into the recesses of her subconscious. Coupled with the little she had learned in her occlumency lessons, for now her mind would be relatively safe.

Before Tamara parted with the final memories that were to be relegated to the makeshift pensieve, however, Snape pulled her to him, his eyes smouldering. "Whatever happens from here, remember that you are a strong and talented witch and you have the strength of heart to accomplish anything you set your mind to." With that he pressed his lips to hers in an urgent and passionate kiss, before allowing her to raise her wand to her temple one last time, adding one final memory to the bowl.

With that, Tamara took hold of Snape's arm as they prepared to apparate (she had not yet been able to master the basic tenets of apparition in her lessons with Mr Beadle, and she certainly hadn't gained her license yet). Elizabeth had been given the task of guarding the bowl containing the memories and Tamara had given her Dumbledore's ring, knowing inwardly that it would protect her cousin if she needed it. Elizabeth stood by the bowl containing Tamara's memories, the ring on her finger, watching anxiously as the couple vanished from sight.

* * *

Snape apparated Tamara back to the courtyard behind the large building that had housed the holding cells, one of which Tamara had been imprisoned in on her previous visit. Tamara let go of Snape's arm and shivered unwillingly, though she was not cold. She wrapped her arms about herself and followed Snape into the building looming in front of them.

Once inside, he led her away from the area that she knew the holding cells to be in and up a set of stairs that led to a small room. To Tamara's surprise it was Adelaide who stepped out to meet them, and not Voldemort. Adelaide's face contorted into a sneer. "You have the audacity to show your face here?" She growled, clearly unhappy to see Tamara.

"Adelaide, I'm on your side..." She began, hoping to convince her former friend enough to gain a little of her trust once more, but Adelaide had drawn her wand and was pointing it at Tamara. The angry blonde's curse was cast before another word could be said, and though Tamara was quick to protect herself, the fact that she had been attacked by someone she had once considered to be a friend was unimaginably painful. But at that moment a sudden coldness cloaked the room and Adelaide suddenly dropped to her knees, bowing her head. Tamara turned and came face to face with Voldemort, who had stepped out of the room and looked angry. He approached Adelaide, who crawled forward to kiss the hem of his robes.

"I expressly commanded that my daughter was not to be harmed. Her blood is mine. It is for me to decide her fate. You know the penalty for attacking Lord Voldemort's property. Prepare to meet your death." Adelaide's body began to shake as Voldemort drew his wand. Tamara's initial fury at being referred to as an object gave way to the instant surge of fear she felt for Adelaide. Without thinking, she threw herself between Adelaide and Voldemort, grabbing hold of Voldemort's wrist and gazing up at him imploringly.

"I knew her at school and wasn't able to help her when something bad happened to her. She was upset. She wasn't thinking. Please spare her... Father." The word felt like poison on her lips, but she forced herself to say it nonetheless. To her relief, her use of the word seemed to have its desired effect and Voldemort paused, looking back at her searchingly. After what seemed like a long minute, he made up his mind.

"Stand aside, daughter." Voldemort commanded her, emotionlessly. Her heart pounded in her chest, unsure of what would happen if she obeyed, though past experience reminded her starkly of the price that would be paid if she remained where she was. And so, unwillingly, she released Voldemort's wrist and stood back. "You forget that it was I who came to you in your hour of need, that it was I who saved you." He told Adelaide, coldly. "I expected better service from you in return. I will grant my daughter's request and spare your life, but you will be confined until I decide what will become of you."

"Thank you my Lord, thank you." Adelaide said, reaching forward to kiss the hem of his robes again.

"Severus, see to it." Voldemort commanded. Snape nodded and drew his wand. Ropes shot from the wand and wrapped themselves around Adelaide. Adelaide's face was a mixture of anger and distress, but she did not fight back, even when she was magically compelled to leave the room, followed by a terse Snape.

Alone with Voldemort, now, Tamara began to feel her fear heighten. He ushered her through the door he had emerged from and into the room that lay beyond. In the centre of the room was a high-backed armchair that sat before a fireplace, though no fire crackled in the grate. Voldemort took his place in the chair, leaving Tamara to stand before him.

"You need not fear reprisal. I do not intend to harm you today. I only wish to speak with you." He told her, his voice faintly reminiscent of the many salesmen that customers wanted to believe and yet were unsure of. Despite his words, Tamara remained guarded and couldn't help but hope that Snape wouldn't be long. Being alone in Voldemort's presence was unsettling and she wasn't sure that she trusted her own reactions. She knew, however, that it was folly to wish for him at that moment, though, and so she did her best to steel herself in preparation for anything Voldemort might choose to do.

For the present moment, however, he simply sat back in his chair, a long spindly finger resting idly against his cheek as he turned his attention to watch something that seemed to be on the floor in front of her. Tamara followed his gaze until her eyes came to rest on a large snake. The snake was regarding her with curiosity and caution, holding its head up high to meet her gaze. Her immediate instinct was to scream and jump away but something about the snake seemed to be important, and so she stood her ground and tried to relax. Slowly, unable to believe quite what she was doing, she took a deep breath and knelt down so that she was more or less on the snake's level. After what seemed like an awfully long moment had finally passed, at last the snake began to relax. Lowering its head once more, it began to approach her. Feeling horrified and yet strangely comforted at the same time, the snake slithered up her arm, curled itself loosely about her neck and promptly settled its head in the crook of her elbow, closing its eyes in contentment.

"To gain favour with Nagini is a rare honour." Voldemort's voice pierced the silence. Tamara looked up at him in surprise. "She could have killed you in an instant and yet she chooses to place her trust in you. You are lucky. She has granted you an advantage." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to register with her before continuing on. "So you have chosen to return. Any other would be punished for the impertinences you have displayed but as you are my daughter and Nagini trusts you I will allow you to make your case as to why I should I forgive you." His words were manipulative to say the least. Lord Voldemort was well practised at using the emotions of his victims to his advantage.

Tamara bowed her head, feigning humility so that she no longer had to look into his cold and heartless eyes. "I didn't know. I didn't understand. I want to know you, Father. Please help me to understand." It was a lie, though she dearly hoped that he would accept her words, which had proved to be difficult to say. She had never despised the word 'father' as much as when she spoke it in relation to Voldemort, though her journey toward accepting the past and understanding the moral choices that were hers to make seemed to help make the burden a little easier to bear.

The fact was, though, that the use of the word 'father' seemed to be an effective tool in dealing with Voldemort and as she slowly raised her gaze once more, she saw a strange look cross his face that took her aback. It was subtle, so subtle in fact that anyone else would likely have missed it. She, however, was now fairly well practised with recognising Snape's varying subtleties and so she saw it at once. Voldemort's thoughtful, yet shallow, expression was tinged imperceptibly with something she didn't quite recognise and yet that gave her the impression that the phrase 'father' was as much a phrase to become accustomed to for him as it was for her.

Before he could respond to her insincere explanation, however, there was a knock at the door and once permission had been granted, Snape entered the room. Tamara relaxed a little at his presence, though she remained guarded, and she took care not to disturb the now sleeping Nagini as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

At that moment, a scream pierced the air from downstairs. Tamara whipped her head around in shock, hoping to see a glimpse down the stairs, but Snape had shut the door behind him. She turned back to Voldemort, about to question him but his lazy look of contentment made her stop short. It was clear that such sounds were not uncommon and she suddenly found herself desperately fighting against her retching stomach.

"You will soon learn that there are certain things that are normal occurrences here. If you truly wish to understand my mandate then I expect you to become accustomed to these things. You are the daughter of Lord Voldemort and I expect you to conduct yourself as such. There is no place for moral conflictions here. Do you understand?" His voice was hardened and cold and reminded Tamara again that she was dealing with a heartless creature who felt nothing towards anybody... not even his own kin. Tamara couldn't help but feel at odds with this. There had been a time when she would have given almost anything to know her birth parents, and now that she knew her Father she grieved for the role he might have been able to play in her life and again she wrestled with the idea that her biological identity, in part, came from a wizard who had made the dark arts his life. She would never know her Mother, and she could only be a part of her Father's life if she compromised her integrity, which she knew she could never do. She was destined never to truly know her birth parents and it was tearing her apart. With an effort greater than she thought she had the strength for, she met Voldemort's eyes and hardened her voice with an air of determination. "I understand." She told him, though she did not understand and would never understand what it would be like to truly have a relationship with her Father. Tamara realised that she was grieving for that loss and that her pain was made all the more conflicting because she felt it over the most despised wizard in history.

Voldemort seemed to recognise the confusion she felt, though he didn't seem to be perturbed by it. He rose to his feet, moving fluidly. He began to circle her and finally came to a stop in front of her. All of a sudden he grabbed her elbow, his grip painfully strong. "Your eyes betray you, Tamara. Your words do not reflect your feelings. I told you I would not tolerate such conflictions. If you truly wish to take your place at my side, as my daughter, then there is something you need to see. Think of it as an education." He snarled. With that, he disapparated them both, leaving Snape behind to wait in the little room and hope that Tamara would come to no harm.

Tamara and Voldemort reappeared in a dimly lit and windowless room that had a small door at the far side. The door opened and a robed death eater entered the room. Upon seeing them, the death eater immediately sank to his knees in a low bow. "The project is progressing as planned, My Lord." The death eater told Voldemort.

"I expected nothing less." Voldemort replied, flatly. "I wish to inspect the holding chamber."

The death eater bowed once more before turning around and leading them through the door he had just emerged from. Tamara could hardly disguise her shock at what she saw in the next room. A sea of people were sprawled about the room, heads lolling, but it was their eyes that shocked her the most. In their eyes she saw nothing but emptiness and a glazed expression. They looked like living life-size puppets whose strings had been cut.

"Pay close attention, Tamara. Remember what you see before you. Know that this is only one of the punishments reserved for those who cross me." At that, Voldemort reached out and grasped her chin roughly in his fingers, squeezing so tightly that it began to hurt. "I will permit you to return to me, but it is on the condition that you will exhibit appropriate behaviour. And should you be tempted to betray me, know that I will have no compunction in locking you away in here, whether you are my daughter or not. Those in whom I vest a greater amount of trust have much more to lose. Remember that."

Tamara couldn't deny that his words frightened her. Though her mental defences seemed to have held out, she was beginning to discover that Voldemort's trust was not easily earned, especially when her feelings toward him were anything but genuine. "It was with that expectation that I returned to you." She told him, hoping that his hostility would begin to dissolve. Unfortunately, though, it seemed to make things worse. His wand was out in an instant, and taking advantage of her surprise he had cast his curse before she could react. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, as though her body had suddenly been inflicted with slaps and hits, though he had not laid a finger on her, and bruises began to creep over her torso. Though it was painful it was, mercifully, not like the cruciatus curse. For Tamara, however, this magical version of domestic abuse gave rise to emotional pain of a level that was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Being on the receiving end of such an assault from someone who was supposed to be a biological relative, someone who should have been unequivocally caring and protective, was heart-wrenching. But what hurt and confused her most of all was that she felt such sorrow and pain over Voldemort. It scared her to think that on some deep-seated level, she had actually craved Voldemort's acceptance and perhaps even affection, and when he coldly dismissed her, instructing the death eater to take her back to Snape, she shamefully began to cry at the overwhelming confusion of it all. And though she had begun to accept that her biological identity was tied to Voldemort, and though she knew that she had achieved a vital goal in gaining the acceptance to return once again, she realised now that nothing could have prepared her for what it had been like to be in his presence.

* * *

**Author Note:** Just one tiny hint... it's not over for Adelaide yet. We will still get to see her again :)


	28. Meetings

**Author Note:** Wow some amazing reviews have come through in the last week! Some of you are getting through the earlier chapters and I'm so so so glad to see that you like them! I always felt a bit nervous about how the story began so it makes me feel warm and fuzzy to know that they're being enjoyed :) Heartfelt thanks go to the following for reviewing: Aslaneyes, Wendy Waddles, Elza, Dontgotaclue88 and Thatgirlwiththatsmile.

Thanks also to Aslaneyes and Jenea for adding my story to your favourite lists/alerts.

Just a couple of words... Aslaneyes Your observations are quite astute :) and RE chapter 4 – yes I agree with you! LOL! And chap 8 – that's an interesting way of looking at it. I hadn't quite thought about it that way before. ThatgirlwiththatsmileThank you so very much! I can't stop blushing! By the way, I have been reading one of your stories, the one about Theia. Hopefully soon I will get the time to get caught up in it again as I was thoroughly enjoying what I have read so far :) Dontgotaclue88 Wow the chapter touched you that much? Now that's quite a compliment!

Well, I will leave you all to the chapter, and don't forget the next will be posted next friday as usual (22/10/10 West Australian standard time). Happy reading!

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**Chapter 28 – Meetings**

Tamara sat at the kitchen table in silence as Snape stood beside her. The home-made pensieve sat on the table in front of her and Snape was carefully reuniting her with her memories. When they had returned to the apartment, Tamara had wanted nothing more than to be alone and rest for a while. Snape, however, had thought it best that she wait long enough for him to restore her memories and make sure that no lasting emotional scars had been inflicted on her as a result of the meeting with Voldemort.

Elizabeth placed a steaming cup of camomile tea on the table before Tamara and gently stroked her cousin's hair. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" Elizabeth asked, softly. A long silence followed as Tamara seemed to weigh her answer, the atmosphere heavy.

"He hurt me, Liz." She finally replied. "I know its Voldemort, but he's my Father and he abused me. Somehow, I didn't think he would harm me." Tamara paused, a conflicted expression filling her eyes. It seemed almost as though she didn't know quite how to continue. When she did, she turned her attention to Snape. "Severus, have you ever felt conflicted about fighting on two different sides?" She asked.

His eyes narrowed, but he stood behind her and let his hands come to rest on her shoulders. "When I was young I felt much as you do now. I have told you a little about my upbringing and my school years. I felt great pain over this and my search for acceptance led me astray. When I realised what my life had become, I turned back to the path I am on now and I have never wavered from it. It is never easy to court the dark in order to fight for the light, but I do it by always remembering what I am fighting for. You carry a burden that no-one should have to bear Tamara, but remember who you are and that we are with you. We will do what we can to support you." At this, he sat down at the table beside her and raised her chin so that her eyes met his. "I know you want to be alone, but I implore you not to shut us out. I spent too many years isolating myself to deal with the weight of what I have had to do for the war effort, and it turned me into a bitter man. You taught me that life doesn't have to be like that. I want you to know this so you know that whatever influence Voldemort may have, it doesn't have to destroy your life the way it nearly did mine. I wasted too many years thanks to him. Don't make the same mistake I did."

Tamara didn't cry, but her hands began to shake and her breathing became ragged. "But he's my Father." She choked. "I'm repulsed by him but I left feeling devastated that he had hurt me instead of showing me some sort of... Fatherly affection. I'm almost sickened that I feel that way about Voldemort. How can I ever come to terms with that?"

"He's your birth father. It's only natural to want fatherly recognition from him. But just because you don't receive it from him doesn't mean you are completely alone or without family. You have a doting cousin, your adopted parents who think the world of you and... me." Snape hesitated at the mention of himself as a part of her family. He hadn't wanted to be presumptuous, but it had been important that she knew he would always be there for her. Tamara nodded in response, the hardness finally melting from her face and giving way to exhaustion.

"Perhaps it's better this way." She finally responded. "Perhaps it would be better for me not to expect anything from him. I have a difficult task ahead, and I won't be able to do what I must if I have any sort of confusion over him." Tamara spoke astutely, but it was clear from her tone of voice and the look in her eyes that this had been an incredibly difficult thing to say.

"Tamara, nobody expects you to get over it straight away you know. This is an incredibly big thing to deal with. It's okay to take your time with it. We're here for you to lean on." Elizabeth told her, earnestly, and finally a single tear drop escaped the prison of Tamara's eye and rolled incriminatingly down her cheek. Snape reached forward to lift her from her chair and embraced her tightly.

After spending a comfortable moment in this fashion, Tamara suddenly remembered what Voldemort had shown her.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked when she saw Tamara's expression darken as she pulled away from Snape.

"Before Voldemort... hurt me... he took me to a secret room. It was unlike anything I've ever seen. It was terrible. All these people were crammed into that tiny space; all of them alive and yet they looked like empty shells. I looked into their eyes and it was like there was nothing there." Tamara shivered at the thought.

"Why on earth would he do something like that?" Elizabeth asked, shocked.

A look of terrible realisation crossed Snape's face. "I cannot offer an explanation why, but I think it is possible that these are the people whose souls were taken from them and stored in the chamber below Gringotts, though I cannot imagine why he would choose to keep them alive since he has no compunction about killing."

"Because he had no choice." Tamara replied suddenly. Both Elizabeth and Snape shot her looks of surprise. "I think that keeping the bodies alive was the only way to keep the souls imprisoned. I think the souls would have eventually withered away and the only way to prevent that would be to keep the bodies alive so that they could retain their connection to something living. I think it was the only way they had of stopping the souls from dying."

"How do you know that?" Elizabeth asked, incredulously.

"I'm his daughter, aren't I?" Tamara replied, darkly. "What I don't understand, though, is what he could possibly want to use the souls for, and why so many?"

* * *

Later that afternoon Elizabeth left for her next shift at the hospital, leaving Tamara and Snape alone in the apartment together. Though they had spent a considerable amount of time together over the past few weeks, they had been so busy with Tamara's training and studies that there hadn't been many opportunities for them to enjoy the time they'd had, so it was in effect the first time they'd truly been able to be alone since the night Tamara discovered that Voldemort was her biological Father.

At present, Tamara sat demurely on the couch, while Snape idly paced the room with a book, which is what he had been doing before Elizabeth had left. Tamara watched him with faint amusement until finally she got up and placed herself in his way. "You're going to wear out the carpet pacing like that." She whispered, a sly smile creeping over her face. He looked back at her with mock annoyance until she took his book away and stood on tip toes to reach for a kiss. As he bent forward to give her the expected kiss, the book promptly fell from her hands as she snaked her arms about his neck.

They spent much of the remainder of the day in this fashion until eventually they conceded that it was time for Tamara to study. Tamara, of course, opted for potions since it wasn't every day, now, that she could study the subject with Hogwarts' brilliant former potions master. It started innocently enough. He watched and directed as she chopped and stirred. After a while, when Tamara was feverishly working over the hot cauldron, a pair of hands behind her settled themselves on her hips. Tamara smiled, but nonetheless she did her best to concentrate. When he leant forward to whisper his next instructions, however, she found it more difficult to resist. Suddenly, she remembered what it was like to brew potions in the dungeon classroom back at Hogwarts, and how much she had wanted this for so long. She was no longer at Hogwarts, but she was still brewing potions and this time Snape was holding her in exactly the way she had ached for and wanted for so long. If only Jez and Thalia could see her now. If only they had trusted her judgment and their friendship. She smiled a bittersweet smile but a shiver ran the length of her spine as he began to kiss her neck. Smiling widely, now, she set the potion at a simmer and turned on the spot so that she was facing him. In one quick movement, he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the bench, as he had done on that Valentine's Day when they had finally confessed their feelings for each other. Tamara wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her, and once again they became lost in each other's affections.

* * *

The next morning, they were sharing a plate of toast when suddenly Snape dropped his slice and clutched his arm. Tamara looked up at him in alarm.

"Severus, what's wrong?" She asked.

"It's the dark mark. _He's_ calling for me." Snape replied, tersely. "I have to go. I promise I won't be long."

With that, he rose to his feet, kissed her on the forehead and disapparated before another word could be said. Tamara couldn't pretend that she liked these moments. The instances of sudden disapparation were becoming all too frequent. She knew it was necessary, though, and understood all the more now for having witnessed firsthand how Voldemort treated his subordinates if they were anything but obedient.

As luck had it, Snape returned little more than an hour later, though he didn't look any happier for it. "I cannot stay, Tamara." He said. Her expression immediately changed to encompass a mixture of hurt and confusion. "He is asking for you."

At this, Tamara's expression took on an ugly distaste and she turned away. "I hate this, Severus. I hate what he does to me, and I'm scared of how I'll feel. It's so much harder to separate my emotions from my task when I'm in his presence. I don't want to go back."

Snape rested his hands on her shoulders. "I know this is hard for you, but you can't turn away now. You have entered the Dark Lord's fold. He is not a wizard you can simply walk away from. I would have done so years ago if I had that luxury. Please Tamara. I need you to honour our plan."

Tamara let out a deep breath of air. "I can't believe I ever agreed to this." She said, turning back to face Snape once more and taking hold of his arm so that they could apparate.

In an instant, the apartment surroundings had melted away and she found herself once more in the small room with Voldemort's high-backed armchair and lifeless fire place. Voldemort stood by the fire place, a grim expression on his face.

"Welcome, my daughter. So you return in spite of my treatment of you. There may well be promise for you yet." He told her, his expression cold and unreadable.

Tamara's eyes narrowed. So his treatment of her had been a test?

"You know by now that Severus was assigned to help you. Tell me, how have you found his conduct?" Voldemort asked. His tone made it sound like a throw-away question of no real importance, but Tamara knew better. Realising, also, that there hadn't been time to relegate memories to the pensieve before coming, she immediately employed the mental defences that she had learned from her brief occlumency training.

"He treats me as he should." She replied, choosing her words carefully.

"Indeed." Voldemort replied. At that, Tamara felt a strange presence pressing against her mind. Thanks to her basic occlumency training she recognised it at once and was immediately able to reinforce her outermost defences. If Voldemort chose to press further, though, she knew she would have a harder time fighting against him. Thankfully he did not, and withdrew the tendrils of his mind from hers. "You surprise me. I did not know that you have had basic occlumency training."

"I'm stronger than you think." Tamara replied, tartly. She knew it wasn't wise to speak to Voldemort in this fashion, especially if she wanted to stay in his good graces. She also knew that if she didn't fight to keep her emotions separated from the fact that he was her Father then she would have a much harder time accomplishing her task.

"Why so guarded, Tamara?" He asked, coolly, crossing the room to take his place in the armchair.

"Forgive me, Father. I felt it appropriate to strengthen myself after our meeting yesterday." She replied, forcing herself to be diplomatic now.

"You mean after what I did to you." He replied, pointedly. Tamara blushed, unwillingly, and immediately cursed herself for doing so. "I thought so. It is an improvement and one that I hope will continue to be an asset to you. December approaches and there is a formal event that I require you to attend. My death eaters enjoy Christmas festivities. I care little for such things, but the event is necessary nonetheless to accomplish some important work. You will attend the event in my company befitting the role of Lord Voldemort's daughter, both in attitude and in attire. I do not want to see the fearful child that remains within you. Do I make myself clear?" Voldemort didn't mince words. He was clear and to the point, and his harshness struck at the very core of her heart. She steeled herself, forcing herself to remember that this was Voldemort and tried to push the word 'father' as far from her mind as possible.

"Perfectly clear." She responded, staring fixedly ahead of her and hoping that he would soon dismiss her.

"One of my minions will be sent in due course to accompany you to make arrangements for an appropriate dress to be made for you. I have high expectations of your behaviour, Tamara. Do not disappoint me. Severus, you may take her away now." With that, Voldemort waved his hand at her, dismissively and Snape immediately stepped forward. He took her by the elbow and apparated her back to the apartment.

As soon as they were safely in the apartment, Tamara wrenched her arm out of Snape's grasp. "_You may take her away now..._ What am I, an object for his amusement?" She thundered, angrily. "Am I just a plaything that he can put away whenever he gets bored?"

Ordinarily, Snape would have responded with concern and caring, but this time he simply smiled wryly.

"And what is that smile for? Do you think this is funny?" She stormed.

"Your situation is anything but funny, and I assure you there is no-one more equipped to understand than I, since my own situation bears similarities. I am, however, relieved to see your anger toward the Dark Lord begin to emerge. It means that you are growing stronger and that you are beginning to overcome your grief at discovering your connection to him." Snape replied, his tone even and diplomatic. Though Tamara's expression didn't soften, she allowed him to draw her into his embrace.

* * *

That evening, Tamara and Snape sat at the dinner table with Elizabeth. They had opted for take away tonight, and various boxes and packets lay scattered about the table beside their now empty plates.

"No way!" Tamara exclaimed, placing her knife and fork on her plate and pushing it away.

"This is getting dangerous. They deserve to know!" Elizabeth fired back. When Tamara and Snape had told her about the latest development, Elizabeth had become so worried about Tamara's involvement, and her own role as a concerned and protective relative, that she had suggested that it was time for Tamara's adoptive parents to know the truth.

"That's exactly why they shouldn't know!" Tamara returned. "If Voldemort thinks they have any part of my life, then they will be in more danger than ever. I can't do that to them!"

"You just can't handle facing your adopted parents when you're going through so much anguish over your birth parents!" Elizabeth accused. Tamara faltered at this. She and Elizabeth had never argued before. Elizabeth had been faultlessly understanding and supportive throughout everything, which had never ceased to amaze Tamara, but where her adoptive parents were concerned Tamara felt understandably torn. In part, Elizabeth was right. After all that Tamara had been through in her fight against the dark arts, meeting her cousin and discovering that Voldemort was her father, she didn't quite know how to face the life that she had lived before. She was now so used to living the Landon legacy that Rosalyn had bequeathed to her that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be the Tamara Edgecombe that she had once been before the war had started. But her own contention that her adoptive parents would be put in danger if they knew too much was a point that she also defended. As she shot a quick look at Snape, she knew that he felt the same way. She remembered the first time that Elizabeth had met Snape and how utterly over-protective he had been of the information he had to impart. Tamara knew that Snape was just as reluctant to involve Tamara's adoptive parents as she was, but there was no denying Elizabeth's point.

"If this meeting has to take place, then it will do so under strict conditions." Snape cut in. "I will go with Tamara and explain myself how important secrecy is, and I will put security measures in place to ensure that no harm will come of them. I also think that perhaps Elizabeth should consider coming. You have a knack for putting Tamara at ease and I think that she will benefit from having your support and encouragement. Is this agreeable?" He asked, though it was not so much a question as a statement, and begrudgingly the two girls agreed without further argument. Even as a teacher, Snape had been gifted this way.

* * *

The next day found Tamara, Elizabeth and Snape standing on the doorstep of Tamara's childhood home; the home of her adoptive parents. With a degree of nervousness, Tamara had phoned the previous day to forewarn of her arrival. At present, Tamara reached for the door bell and then stood back to wait, wringing her hands nervously. Snape looked tense. Tamara could only assume that the prospect of meeting his young girlfriend's adopted parents was troubling him. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. It was at that moment, however, that the door opened to reveal a flustered looking Allison Edgecombe. Allison immediately noticed Tamara's hand enclosed around Snape's and her expression darkened. The expression quickly passed and Allison rushed forward to embrace Tamara.

"You should have let yourself in, darling. You have a key." Allison breathlessly said, ushering them all inside. Tamara bowed her head at the thought that she hadn't been comfortable enough to let herself in.

Once inside, Allison led them to the living room. Tamara gaped in surprise at the sight of her adopted father, John, who appeared to have taken a rare day off work.

"Mum, Dad, this is Severus." Tamara introduced as they all took their seats. "You've met Elizabeth."

Both John and Allison nodded respectfully. "So what brings you this way?" John asked, doing his best to sound jovial. Tamara knew better. The room was thick with tension at the strange visit and he was doing his best to break the ice.

Tamara took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "This isn't really a social visit." She began.

"We assumed as much." Allison replied, an air of coldness in her voice.

Tamara ignored her adopted mother's tone and continued. "We're here because there are terrible things happening in the Wizarding world and there are things you need to know."

"This sounds serious. You haven't got yourself into trouble have you?" John asked, pointedly.

"I need you to hear me out." Tamara replied, feeling stronger somehow. When she'd had to face the prospect that Voldemort was her birth father she had started to become more steeled against the troubles that family had brought to her life. "You know that my birth mother was a witch called Rosalyn Landon. What you don't know was that she was an uncommonly powerful witch and during her life she was hunted by Voldemort for her magic. Up until recently, Voldemort didn't know that she had a daughter... me. Now he does know about me. My life has been put in danger and I have had no choice but to face him as Rosalyn did. That's why I couldn't go back to school this year."

"Now just a minute, young lady. I would never have allowed you to stay with your cousin if I thought you were gallivanting about, deliberately putting yourself in danger. And I suppose you've been encouraging this, have you?" John accused, suddenly turning on Elizabeth.

"Mr Edgecombe, I've seen what she has had to endure. I've been there. I assure you its anything but reckless. I fear for her just as much as you do, but I know first-hand how important it is." Elizabeth tried to reassure him.

"And I suppose you've been filling their heads with all of this nonsense?" John shot at Snape, unable to think of how to respond to Elizabeth. Snape responded with a glare but Tamara interrupted before an argument could break out.

"Severus is a double agent and his work is very important. I trust him with my life... I love him." Tamara found herself saying. The room fell awkwardly silent and her declaration hung heavily in the air. Both John and Allison, it seemed, had momentarily lost their ability to speak in their shock. "There's one other thing you need to know." Tamara finally said, breaking the silence and pressing on.

"There's more?" Allison interjected, incredulously. It was the first thing she had said since they had entered the house.

Tamara nodded, firmly. "You know of my birth mother, but no-one knew the identity of my birth father." She began, pausing and considering her words before she went on. "I recently met him." Tamara's words trailed away, as she was suddenly overcome with a need to avoid the subject altogether. Confliction bubbled within her at the realisation that she was now about to embark on a discussion of her biological father with her adoptive parents, who had raised her as good parents ought to.

"You met..." John also seemed to be overwhelmed by the news and was desperate to know the man's identity, though he seemed equally hesitant to ask. Allison drew in a sharp breath of air and John patted her knee before resting both of his hands in his lap and waiting for Tamara to continue.

"Years ago, Voldemort assaulted Rosalyn and I was the result. It's definite. I've been given magical proof. I've seen it. Voldemort is my biological father." The words were almost as difficult to say for Tamara as it was to address Voldemort himself as 'Father' and she could speak no more and turned her face toward the floor again. If Elizabeth had been their only companion, Snape might have taken this opportunity to squeeze Tamara's shoulder, or sit beside her and embrace her, but he was not an outwardly affectionate man and was hesitant to do so in front of Tamara's adoptive parents. He did, however, decide to spare Tamara of the burden of explaining the nature of their secret plan.

"The situation has given Tamara a unique opportunity to gain the Dark Lord's trust enough to discover certain information that will inevitably be pertinent to his downfall. Tamara has been invited to a formal Christmas event as the Dark Lord's guest and we believe that this night will most valuable in allowing us to formulate a plan to destroy him. We do not tell you this to scare you, nor do we seek your approval. We share this information with you because we believe that as Tamara's parents you have every right to understand what Tamara endures, what her heritage has bequeathed on her. My position allows me to ensure that she is prepared sufficiently enough that she will remain safe and well, and I assure you that I would rather sacrifice my own life than see Tamara come to any harm. But you must understand that this information is extremely sensitive. It is to be kept secret at all costs. If the Dark Lord were to suspect any of what I have just told you it would put both yourselves and Tamara at risk, and the wizarding world will be robbed of the first opportunity they have had for fifty years to be rid of him." Snape's voice was elegant and smooth, charismatic to a fault, though serious; it was precisely the confident type of tone that made Tamara feel endlessly powerful.

Tears had begun to spill from Allison's eyes and John had become pale, though in a great show of bravery Allison nodded. "I understand." She whispered.

"You can trust Severus." Elizabeth suddenly said. "He frustrates me to no end, but he's a good man and he feels a greater love for her than I've ever seen before. I assure you that he won't let anything happen to Tamara. You won't lose your daughter."

Tamara stared at Elizabeth with surprise and incredible gratitude. Once more, her cousin had managed to astound her with her with the utter strength of true family. In another surprising move, Allison leapt from her seat and rushed forward to embrace both Snape and Elizabeth in turn, and John smiled bracingly.

Another hour or so passed with a shared lunch. And though Tamara's adopted parents didn't feel entirely comfortable with Snape's age or the fact that he had once been her teacher, it was clear to see that he was fiercely protective of Tamara and they knew Elizabeth's judgement to be sound and mature and were perfectly happy to accept her blessing of Tamara's choice in partner.

* * *

The remainder of November passed in an altogether unremarkable fashion. Tamara continued with her studies, and continued to attend the Ministry of Magic for lessons with Mr Beadle twice a week. Her apparation lessons were beginning to progress and her occlumency lessons with Snape were now beginning to yield much more fruitful results than they had before. In addition to this, Snape had begun to recap all that he had previously told her respecting Death Eater customs in a bid to prepare her for the ways in which she would likely be expected to behave in her role as Voldemort's daughter before an audience of Death Eaters.

With all of these pressures, the moments in which Snape and Tamara could truly relax and enjoy each other's company were rare and they embraced each of these moments with as much fervour as it was possible to have. It soon became a common sight for Elizabeth to find the pair curled up on the couch together, fast asleep at the end of the inordinately long and tiring days. It was one such night now, and Elizabeth smiled to herself as she covered the pair with a blanket before heading to bed.


	29. December, Part 1

**Author Note:** Thanks to the usual suspects for reading and reviewing. You know who you are :) Elza in response to your question... you will have to wait and see ;) Either way, though, they are her adopted parents and I think they had a right to know.

Well, here is the next chapter. Originally this and the next were going to be one chapter but this way just works better :) I imagine that the way I've handled this chapter and next week's chapter won't please everyone, but I like how it came out anyway so I just ran with it. Hey, what can I say, I had fun!

Anyway, hope this chapter finds you all well. Happy reading and the next chapter will be up next friday as usual :)

* * *

**Chapter 29 – December, Part 1**

As November turned into December, anxieties began to build regarding the Christmas event that Tamara was required to attend. Tamara's thoughts were a constant whirl, moving between the event itself and the impending shopping trip. There was no way of knowing who would be sent to accompany her, and she had no desire to spend even a short amount of time with one of the burly thuggish Death Eaters who were at Voldemort's command. Once, Snape had asked Voldemort whether he would be required to accompany her, as a way of hinting at Tamara's concern. This was met only with the response that Voldemort was perfectly content with the arrangement that he had made and that he was satisfied that Tamara's needs would be perfectly well catered to. Of course, this did little to ease Tamara's worries.

Tamara's nervousness wasn't eased, either, by Snape's efforts to prepare her for dealing with whichever Death Eater that would accompany her on the shopping trip and of course the Christmas event itself. Snape would bark random questions at her regarding Death Eater custom, or else bombard her with legilimency when she least expected it in an attempt to help her strengthen her occlumency skills and to encourage her to expect the unexpected. While Tamara's occlumency skills were now significantly improved, Snape's frequent attempts to keep her on her toes were beginning to frustrate her.

"Honestly, you're as bad as Mad-Eye Moody!" She said to him on one occasion, referring to her fourth year teacher.

"I'm trying to make sure that you're ready." He irritatedly replied. "You cannot take this lightly. You are in a precarious position with the Dark Lord and if anyone suspects foul-play on our part then you will be as good as dead. I promised to protect you Tamara." His coal-black eyes blazed and glittered.

Tamara wanted to retort that of course she wasn't taking it lightly, and didn't he know how scared she was? But at present, all that registered was his vow to protect her and suddenly she found herself jumping into his lap and wrapping her legs around his waist as she kissed him fiercely.

Snape hadn't expected this reaction. Suddenly flustered, he stared at her with confusion. "I love you, but I doubt I will ever fully understand women." He told her. Tamara responded with a grin and from then on she didn't complain about his surprise attempts to provoke her occlumency defences.

In addition to this, they also continued on with the defence lessons that they had briefly embarked on at Hogwarts, meaning that it was now not unusual for Elizabeth to find them engaged in mock duals in the lounge room. Now it was nothing unexpected and she was more than happy to leave them to it, but the first time she had stumbled across them her reactions had been a mixture of fear that Tamara and Snape were arguing and that it had become violent, and to a lesser degree that her living room would be destroyed by the spells that were flying about the room. Once they had explained what they were doing and that they had cast a barrier charm on the room before starting so that their spells wouldn't hit the furniture, however, Elizabeth calmed down considerably and had left them to their own devices. At times she even stood to watch from the safety of the doorway as she hadn't seen much magic at work before and found it utterly fascinating.

When finally December was half gone, Tamara had begun to panic a little more that the month's appointed events were now so much nearer, and more so that she still didn't know which day to expect it all to begin. The day in question, however, turned out to be one of the two assigned study days that she was to spend with her mentor a week and Mr Beadle noticed at once how preoccupied she seemed to be. When her potion turned into a coagulated mess, she sighed in frustration.

"Miss Edgecombe, is everything alright? You are an uncommonly gifted potion-maker and this is well below your usual standard. In fact, you've been struggling all day. I'm concerned." Mr Beadle said, placing his hands on his hips in a McGonagall-like gesture.

Tamara barely had time to give a vague reply about "family troubles" when suddenly the door to the room opened and a little old man peeked out and gestured to Tamara who recognised the man at once as the disguise that Snape had used when they had journeyed to the remote parts of Scotland to find Dumbledore's secret hidden island. She excused herself from an exasperated Mr Beadle and hurried out of the room.

Once alone, the disguised Snape addressed her. "The Dark Lord is calling for you. We have to go now." He told her in a hushed and scratchy voice.

"Can't it wait?" Tamara replied, unable to help but think about her disastrous day of study and how she could redeem herself.

"No-one tells the Dark Lord to wait." The disguised Snape hissed back at her.

"Alright, just give me a minute." She said, and hurried back into the room. "Mr Beadle, there's a family emergency. May I be excused for today?" She asked when standing before her mentor once more.

Mr Beadle pressed his fingers to his temple before responding. "I suppose it is the last week of term, and I suppose you could benefit from a break. You've been working hard. Yes, you may go. Just mind that your standards are back to normal next time I see you."

Tamara thanked him and collected her things before dashing from the room. Within minutes, Snape disapparated and they reappeared in a large room that Tamara didn't recognise. The decorations were ornate, tapestries covered the walls and the room featured several fireplaces along with a large table at the centre that was big enough for a considerably large group of people. At present, the room was empty and Snape had taken a tiny vial of potion from his pocket and had transformed back into himself before she had finished taking in her surroundings.

Snape grabbed her elbow and hastily began to usher her towards the seat beside the position at the head of the table, whispering as he did so. "Your chaperone is to be Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's Mother." He told her, hurriedly. "I do not have many moments to prepare you about her, but I will say that she is a lady of decorum and I do not believe that you will come to any harm in her company. Be careful with what you say to her and remember what I taught you concerning occlumency." With that, he stood back smartly and strode out of the room.

Tamara took the brief moment she had alone to collect herself and placed her cauldron and school bag on the table in front her, rearranging the books that she had so hurriedly stuffed inside it before she had left the Ministry. She turned her attention back to the cauldron that sat beside her bag. It still contained the thick gloop that should have been a dreamless sleep potion. She prodded it uncertainly with her wand, and it responded with an unceremonious burp. "Evanesco" she intoned, jabbing her wand at it again. In an instant, the gloop had disappeared, leaving behind a completely clean and empty cauldron.

She sat back in her chair, casting her gaze about the empty room again. When nobody came for her, she sighed and reached for her bag again, fumbling for her copy of _Grimble's Guide to Transfiguration – Grade Seven_ and her notebook and a self-inking quill. Her intention had been to work on her latest piece of transfiguration work to kill the time, but her nerves prevented her from concentrating properly and she ended up abandoning the notebook and quill and casting them onto the table, choosing to flip idly through the pages of the book instead, though she didn't really process much of what was written on the pages.

Just as she was trying to order her thoughts enough to memorise the key rules associated with human transfiguration, the door to the room burst open. Voldemort strode purposefully toward her, followed by a tall and expressionless blonde-haired woman whose posture looked the picture of etiquette, and whose clothes looked both elegant and expensive. Tamara guessed that this must be Narcissa Malfoy. Placing her transfiguration book on the table, she rose to her feet and clasped her hands in front of her, holding her head high and saying nothing until she was addressed.

"You are improving." Voldemort remarked, referring to the manner with which she had risen to her feet. "And what is this?" He asked, gesturing to her pile of school things.

"Study." She replied, unable to think of what else to say. "I've been taking a Ministry-run correspondence course so that I could finish my education." There didn't seem to be any point in lying. Even if he had known about her regular meetings at the Ministry of Magic with Mr Beadle, and even if he hadn't ordered his minions not to harm her, the Ministry would likely not be an ideal place for Voldemort to wage an open attack and he would likely not want to risk another appearance there after the incident that had taken place almost two years ago. That had been the blunder that had finally revealed to the wizarding world that he had indeed returned. No, if she were to come to any harm at his hands it would be at a place that gave Voldemort the advantage; somewhere like this...

"At least you show initiative." Voldemort lazily replied. "This is Narcissa Malfoy. She is to be your chaperone and will offer you the benefit of her advice in choosing an appropriate outfit for the Christmas event. You know what I expect of you. You will leave your things here. I won't have you walking around looking like a pack horse."

Tamara nodded, swallowing the biting retort that she wanted so desperately to say, and stepped forward to take hold of Narcissa's outstretched hand. As soon has their hands connected, Narcissa disapparated. The room disappeared and with a jolt they reappeared in a cosy lane filled with mingling people. The lane looked like something out of _Country Living_ magazine and was filled with stylish boutiques and cafes.

"Let me take a look at you." Narcissa said, reaching for Tamara's shoulder and turning her so that they were facing. The tall blonde woman regarded her for a moment before turning her around again and ushering her into one of the boutiques. Tamara couldn't help but gaze in wonderment at the racks of exquisite gowns. One was embroidered with what looked like fairy wings and another looked like liquid gold. Tamara couldn't help but gaze at the gold gown, stupidly, completely entranced by it. Immediately she was reminded of the Potions Conference that she had attended the previous year with Snape. In the foyer of the hotel that had hosted the conference was a fountain that looked as though it had been pouring liquid gold instead of water. Snape had sneered at it and labelled it as a cheap charm. Tamara held back a grin and gently reached out to softly stroke the material, expecting it to feel like any other dress would feel and confirm what Snape would say, that it was merely a cheap charm. To her surprise, it was like nothing she had ever felt before and she knew that there were no words to describe such a touch.

"You have expensive taste." Came Narcissa's voice from over her shoulder. Tamara pulled her hand back from the dress and turned to face her chaperone. "It's genuine you know, and one of a kind. Everything here is. Personally, I would have advised you to choose a black evening dress for the event, but now that I think about it..." Narcissa let her words trail off. She took the dress off the rack and held it against Tamara, thoughtfully examining her appearance. The dress was shapely and figure-hugging. From the waist it fell to the ground and featured a split up the left leg. The split wasn't high enough to be considered inappropriate for a formal event, but it was just high enough to be elegant and becoming. The neckline was scooped and the gown featured long sleeves that sat just below the shoulder and ended in a point at the wrist. All in all the dress was simply stunning.

After a moment of gazing at her reflection in the mirror, the spell of such a wondrous gown finally fell away. "I could never afford it." Tamara confessed, a hint of deep disappointment in her voice. To her surprise, Narcissa threw her head back and laughed.

"My dear girl! You are the Dark Lord's daughter. As his daughter you are not only his representative, but an extension of the Dark Lord himself. You represent his power and all that he professes to offer to those who give him their loyalty. Anything you choose today, you shall have." Narcissa told her.

Tamara gaped at her in shock at the thought that this dress could be hers if she so chose. But as she entertained fantasies about stepping into a crowded room wearing the exquisite gold gown that she was so taken with, Narcissa's words also reminded her of the reality of her place in Voldemort's life. To Voldemort, she seemed to be nothing more than an accessory to compliment him. Not only this but the statement that she could, in essence, have anything she chose thanks to Voldemort made her feel more than a little like a spoiled brat whose Father cared little for her and preferred to shower her with expensive trinkets and entrust her care to chaperones rather than attend to her himself. The situation reminded her starkly of just who she was dealing with, and she couldn't help but wonder if there were any ulterior motives to Voldemort's choice to embrace her, for all intents and purposes, as his daughter rather than remain locked in battle with her as an enemy. Of course, Tamara still regarded him as her enemy, and she knew she had to remember the reason why she was going along with this charade; so she could find out enough information about Voldemort and his plans to be able to destroy him. It was a sobering realisation and with regret she turned away from the gold dress, asking Narcissa if they could look in some of the other boutiques before she made up her mind.

"Please yourself." Narcissa replied, and ushered Tamara out of the shop. Together, they traipsed through the rest of the boutiques in the little lane. Nothing caught Tamara's fancy as much as the gold dress had. She was examining a showy black cocktail dress when Narcissa said "don't even think about it". The dress was incredibly short, had very thin straps, a revealing v-neck and the midriff was bare. Tamara couldn't help but visualise the look on Snape's face if he saw her in it and grinned to herself but put the dress back on its rack.

Once they had left the shop, Narcissa rounded on Tamara. "We've been in every shop and boutique, and we've examined every dress on offer. Really, you're almost as choosy as I am."

This took Tamara by surprise. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't considered the lack of etiquette in dragging her chaperone into every shop in the lane. "Oh, I..." She began, but her words trailed off when Narcissa cut in.

"Nothing quite compares to the gold dress, does it?" She said, reading Tamara's expression. "Perhaps you can enlightenment me. If you were so taken with it, why not simply buy it and avoid this charade?"

Tamara blushed. Though Narcissa's words seemed harsh, her tone was even. It was hard to know how trustworthy she was. Draco's mother did not seem unkind, but any emotion she might have felt seemed to be very closely guarded. Somehow, though, Tamara felt at ease in her presence. It seemed comforting to have a motherly figure to turn to amongst the dark arts and the death eaters.

"I suppose I'm not used to this sort of expense. I just thought that the gold dress would be... you know, too fancy." Tamara confessed, trying not to stumble over her words in her embarrassment. Narcissa, however, looked back at her with a sympathetic expression.

"I assure you that the extravagance of that dress will be a perfect display of your Father's wealth and power. I think it is an excellent choice. He will be pleased." Narcissa told her with a wry smile. Tamara wasn't sure whether she liked this but with her chaperone's encouragement, they returned to the first boutique they had visited and Tamara immediately headed toward the gold dress.

"May I be of assistance?" A little man asked, hurrying up to them. He was dressed impeccably in expensive looking dress robes and Tamara guessed that he was the shop keeper. Narcissa reached into her handbag, pulled out a small roll of parchment and handed it to him. The shop keeper unrolled the parchment and after reading what was written there he put it in his pocket and gave a low bow. Immediately, he took the gold dress that Narcissa was now gesturing to. They followed him to the counter and watched as he delicately wrapped the dress in tissue paper and placed it carefully in a box. The shop keeper then tapped the box with his wand and spoke an incantation that Tamara faintly recognised. It was a reinforcement spell to stop the dress from becoming damaged in the box in transit.

After another lengthy amount of time had passed, and with the shop keeper's assistance, Tamara had chosen a pair of shoes to match the dress; a pair of stilettos that were simple in design but which exactly matched the dress's golden hue. As Tamara wasn't used to stilettos, she knew she'd have to spend a considerable amount of time practising walking in them when she got home. The two women thanked the shop assistant who bowed to them again as they turned to leave, Tamara now laden with two boxes that contained her dress and shoes for the event, and wondering why they hadn't been required to hand over a single galleon for the purchases.

A few minutes later, Tamara and Narcissa were seated at a table on the veranda of one of the cafes. A waitress placed a steaming pot of tea between them and gave them each a delicate tea cup. Tamara raised her wand and pointed it at the teapot, magically directing it to pour tea into both of the cups before allowing it to settle on the table once more. Narcissa watched this humble display of magic with amusement.

"An elegant little charm." Narcissa mused. "My son lacks the finesse for it. He flourishes his wand too much." She seemed to be speaking to herself more than Tamara.

"Why didn't we have to pay for the dress?" Tamara suddenly found herself asking, interrupting Narcissa's train of thought.

"Of course it was paid for, but my dear we don't all carry that sort of money around with us." With that, she passed Tamara a piece of parchment not unlike the one she had given to the shop keeper. The parchment bore the stamp of a goblin she didn't recognise and declared authorisation for a sum of galleons to be moved from one bank vault to another. The dark mark had been printed at the bottom of the parchment, evidently being used as a signature. Tamara understood at once. It was the wizard version of what a muggle cheque. It seemed strange to think of Voldemort as wealthy. With the sort of power that he abused on a daily basis, money didn't seem like something that would be important. Now that she thought about it, though, she realised how useful it would be to someone like Voldemort and how easily he could probably acquire it. She gave the parchment back to Narcissa and sipped at her tea, thinking of something to say to generate some sort of conversation.

When she eventually did speak, she found herself surprised at her own choice of words. "How do you handle being one of the few women in my Father's employ?" She asked. She hadn't intended to open the conversation this way, but somehow her innermost concern had leapt to the forefront.

Narcissa regarded her, carefully, before answering. "The Dark Lord favours those who possess a strong attitude. My sister, for instance, is ruthless and loyal to the last. She has earned herself an admirable position in his inner circle because of it. I am as unlike her as it is possible to be. The battlefield has never been my place and so I must do my duty and give unquestionable support to my husband and son in their endeavours. It is not my place to do otherwise." Though Narcissa's words were matter-of-fact, there was a sadness about her features and Tamara knew immediately, as only another woman could, that Narcissa was afraid for her family and perhaps inwardly desired nothing more than a safe and happy life for them away from the dangers of the Dark Lord's work. "How about you?" Narcissa asked, changing the subject. "You have more in common with the Dark Lord than any of us. You share his blood. My sister would be envious of you."

Tamara took a moment to consider her thoughts and chose her words carefully. "It's overwhelming." She admitted. "Sometimes I feel as though I could never live up to the expectations everyone has of me."

Tamara's words were meant to be cryptic, but Narcissa gazed back at her with understanding. "My son has said the very same thing on many occasions. You both carry so much for ones so young. And yet, you have accomplished the tasks that have been given to you and you remain strong and intact."

Her chaperone's words echoed in her mind as she continued to sip at her tea. The conversation dwindled into silence as Narcissa regarded the preoccupied Tamara with curiosity.

* * *

Tamara and Narcissa reappeared in the room with the big table where Tamara had left her school things before embarking on the shopping trip. Voldemort was seated at the other end of the table beside a death eater that she didn't recognise. They were deep in conversation, speaking in hushed tones. Tamara couldn't make out what was being said, but Voldemort's voice held an unmistakeable element of frustration. As soon as he saw Tamara, he rose to his feet.

"Your outing went well?" He asked, addressing Narcissa.

"Yes my Lord. I think you will be pleased with your daughter's selection." The stately blonde told him.

"Show me." Voldemort commanded, unceremoniously.

Tamara forced a smile. "You'll find out soon enough." She told him, impishly. He did not look amused. Immediately, she felt the tendrils of his mind pressing against hers and she responded by employing the mental blocks of occlumency.

"Do not toy with me, Tamara. Would you rather that I torture Narcissa with the cruciatus curse until she reveals your choice of outfit to me?" He spoke in a low and dangerous whisper.

Tamara's smile vanished and suddenly her fantasy of appearing before the crowded throng in the golden dress, stunning even Voldemort with her choice of outfit, had disappeared. Wordlessly, she held out the box that contained the dress. "I'm sorry, Father. I rather hoped that I could surprise you with it." She explained, quietly.

"I care little for surprises." He told her, his attention now on the box as he removed the lid with his wand and cast it to one side. Still using his wand, the dress rose from the box and hung in the air above the table. It glittered, gloriously, but somehow it didn't look quite so beautiful hanging limply in front of Voldemort.

A look of surprise, however, crossed Voldemort's face. "You chose this yourself, did you?" She nodded, suddenly afraid that he would punish her for making an inappropriate choice or spending too much. Voldemort, however, didn't seem to be displeased. He lowered his wand and the dress sank back into the box once more. Wordlessly, he directed the box forward with his wand and it sailed across the table back to Tamara.

"Is it an adequate choice, Father?" She asked, nervously.

"Adequate? Do not contain your standards at mere _adequate_ my daughter. Your choice of outfit is exceptional. I expect your attitude to be befitting of it from now on. Do you understand me?" Voldemort's words were strong, though the anger had disappeared from his voice now. Tamara nodded, holding her head up high though inwardly she was more perplexed than she cared to admit.


	30. December, Part 2

**Author Note:** Thanks to Wendy Waddles, Thatgirlwiththatsmile and Elza for reviews. A shout out also goes to 11 Tango 11. Thank you for the very kind message you sent. Also to Orangepigeon19. Thank you for adding to your story alerts and favourites list.

I am posting this week's chapter a day early because I'm taking a well earned day off tomorrow and I won't be able to get near the internet to post. Next week's chapter should be out as usual. After that, I have a trip coming up - just a week away, but I'm not sure how it will effect posting/writing time. I will keep you updated, but unfortunately there may be a two week gap between chapter posting soon. My apologies for that, but as said I will let you know what's happening in due course.

For now, I hope you enjoy the present chapter. I actually wrote some parts of it twice to get it right so hopefully it comes across okay. Stay tuned for the next chapter on friday next week, and oh I finally finished the short story I have been working on. It comprises of five chapters, its very angsty and features Snape and Lupin as the main characters (no that doesn't mean slash, so don't ask LOL). The link should be at the bottom of my profile. Check it out :)

* * *

**Chapter 30 – December, Part 2**

When Tamara returned to Elizabeth's apartment once more, she pushed aside her conflictions about the way her last meeting with Voldemort had ended and channelled all of her energies into completing one final task that lay ahead of her before the time came to attend the Christmas event, which she now knew was arranged for December the 24th; Christmas Eve. This task was none other than her apparation test. If she passed then it would mean that she would receive her license and would have a lot more freedom when it came to travel. As she was only allowed to practise in a Ministry designated area, she spent a considerable amount of extra time in her usual classroom, having signed up for the extra lessons that had been offered by the apparation instructor. Tamara found that the extra time invested in these lessons paid off enormously, with the result that she had finally got the hang of it and could now perform successful apparation at almost every attempt.

When the day of the test came, her nerves got the better of her and she became extremely irritable, and everyone was glad when the time finally came for her to meet her examiner. Her examiner was a little wizard with a tuft of hair growing wildly from the top of his head. He reminded her initially of the deaf old wizard she'd spoken with when she had first registered her wish to formally leave Hogwarts. To her relief, it wasn't the same wizard and though he had the same wheezy tone, his hearing and eyesight both seemed to be completely intact. Her task was to apparate to a particular shop in the closest London suburb to the one they currently occupied, at which point he would meet her to assess her. To her utter relief, she passed with flying colours and apparated back to the apartment. This gave Elizabeth such a fright that it took her several minutes to calm down and register what had happened. She was becoming used to her magical cousin, but seeing her appear out of thin air had been wholly unexpected. Tamara remained excited about her newly acquired apparation license and couldn't wait to tell Snape, waiting on tenterhooks for him to return.

In the end, however, several days passed before Snape finally returned, which put a significant damper on Tamara's excitement. When at last she did tell him that she had passed her test, and asked whether she could arrive at the Christmas event alone (she wanted her dress to be a surprise), his response did little to raise her spirits.

"I have been expressly ordered to transport you, Tamara. Your ability and authority to apparate now does not change that. The Dark Lord does not wish to reveal the location of his most important strongholds and I cannot be seen to be granting you special favours, whatever else you and I know to be true." He explained, his posture stiff and his expression tense.

Tamara frowned. "He doesn't really trust me, then. I thought he had accepted me as his daughter."

"Tamara, we have been through this. Confliction over your biological connection to him will not serve you. He has never cared for anyone, so don't torture yourself with the thought that he might one day come to care for you." He paused and took her hands in his, kissing her fingers and then her forehead, wishing with such an aching need that he could fix all of her family problems for her that it began to hurt. He understood her pain. He had also felt feelings of neglect when he was young, but she had him. Perhaps he could make up for the gaping hole that family had left in her life.

"Don't forget," he went on, "that the Dark Lord doesn't trust any of his minions completely. He always takes precautions and none of us can claim to know all of his secrets. He has never trusted everything to one single person. It is his insurance against betrayal and it is this thinking that has allowed me to continue to spend so much time with you. Any other person in any other circumstance might have been satisfied simply that you had returned and my task might have been complete. The Dark Lord, however, does not want to take any risks and believes that my continued presence here serves to reinforce Death Eater aims and beliefs so that you will not be tempted to stray back into your old ways, as it were."

Tamara took all of this in, listening to his explanation in silence without interrupting or questioning. She appeared pensive when he finished speaking; utterly lost in thought.

"You said your dress will be a surprise." He went on. Wanting to spare Tamara from her troubling thoughts on what was not a pleasant topic, he hoped to steer her thoughts to something that might generate her enthusiasm once more.

"Yes it is." She replied, defiantly.

"Do I get any hints?" He asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously in a way the reminded her of Dumbledore.

She grinned. "Nope." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips before her expression became serious. "I will say this; the dress mirrors Voldemort's desire for power and extravagance, but you will appreciate it for its exquisite and unique beauty."

"I have no doubt that you will outshine us all, whatever you choose to wear." He told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her toward him.

* * *

When the day finally came, Tamara spent an excess of time on perfecting her hair and make-up, unable to make up her mind. Snape was made to wait in the lounge while she readied herself and only Elizabeth was permitted to see and offer help and advice on the perfect look.

The look she finally settled on comprised of a simple but sleek updo with several long curls spraying over the back of a knot at the back of her head; she had chosen a simple hair style so as to give the dress more attention. Her make-up comprised of foundation to give her an even skin tone, a light shimmer of silver dust on her eyelids accompanied by eyeliner and mascara. Tamara rarely used eyeliner and it had taken a few attempts, with Elizabeth's help, to get it right.

When the time came to put on the dress she was amazed to find that it contained a magical enchantment that enabled it to perfectly fit its owner. As she slipped into it, terrified that something might happen to it if she was less than careful, she marvelled as it immediately began to hug her every curve as though the maker had created it especially for her. She grinned. Magic was an amazing thing.

In the security of Tamara's room, Elizabeth was given the privilege of seeing the completed look, and when she saw the dress accompany the hairstyle and make-up, she burst into tears and drew her cousin into a hug. For Tamara, wearing a dress made from pure liquid gold was like nothing she had ever experienced and she couldn't have described the sensation even if she had been asked. She stared at her reflection in the mirror with amazement until finally she tore her eyes away and slipped her travelling cloak over her shoulders, drawing it tightly around herself so that the dress couldn't be seen. Elizabeth slipped out of the room ahead of her and Tamara followed, slipping her feet into the matching shoes as she went.

Snape offered her his arm as she entered the living room. She smiled bracingly to hide her nervousness, held her head up high and accepted the arm he offered her. They disapparated, the familiar wrenching feeling pulling at her as they went. When they arrived, Tamara saw that they were now in a small room that she had never seen before, and at once she wondered whether all the different places she had been to were even in the same building. It was startling to realise that she still knew so little. She would have to put her energies to good use tonight if all the effort was to truly pay off.

Snape slipped his arm out of hers as she took in her new surroundings. The room was completely bare, the door being the only feature. The door opened and Voldemort stepped into the room. Without saying a word, he dismissed Snape, who disappeared through the door, leaving Tamara alone with her Father.

Not taking her eyes off him, and doing her best to retain the elegant posture she had been practising, she removed her travelling cloak. Tapping it once with her wand, it disappeared and she stowed her wand in a little handbag that Elizabeth had leant her. The bag also contained Dumbledore's ring, which she was hesitant to go anywhere without these days, and a couple of potions from Rosalyn's potion chest.

Voldemort regarded her as she readied herself. He said nothing about her appearance, and his expression was emotionless, as though were bored. When she was ready, he wordlessly extended his arm to her as Snape had done. Tamara knew that she should have expected this, but all the same it came as a shock to her and as she stepped forward to accept his proffered arm she felt a wave of revulsion wash over her. It was one thing to stand in his presence and pretend that she felt anything towards him, but tolerating his touch was quite another. She took a deep breath of air to help her order her thoughts as he steered her toward the doorway, once more unable to stop herself from wishing that the Father who accompanied her was not Voldemort but Dumbledore instead.

As they made their way down a magnificent staircase, any thoughts Tamara had previously had of making a grand entrance promptly disappeared from her mind. A sea of cold faces stared back at her. Voldemort's death eaters made no secret of their surprise at seeing the daughter who accompanied their master, but at the same time their eyes seemed to be empty. At once, she realised that she despised her secret mission and wanted nothing more than to be rid of it.

Snape stood amongst the crowd of guests at the foot of the grand staircase, waiting for Tamara and the Dark Lord to make their appearance. When they emerged from the little room and began to walk down the stairs towards the gathered throng, Snape felt a rush of heat wash over him. Tamara wore the most exquisite dress he had ever seen, and he knew at once that its look was not the result of a simple enchantment. What was incredible about the dress, however, was that it was not the first thing one noticed. The dress seemed to have the effect of making the wearer shine with a wondrous radiance. In effect, the dress complimented the wearer and not the other way around. The fact remained that Tamara looked breathtakingly beautiful and he was sure that no other woman could have worn that dress and looked half so glorious.

Realising what his expression must have looked like, he immediately rearranged his features so that they resembled the mask of neutrality that he had worn for years as a teacher at Hogwarts. And then the spell was broken. The Dark Lord and his daughter were being greeted by the crowd, and idle chatter had erupted once more.

Tamara was busying herself with accepting the cordial greetings that were offered when a familiar looking blonde-haired girl made her way through the crowd carrying a tray of drinks. It wasn't until the girl turned in their direction that Tamara realised why she was so familiar. It was Adelaide. After her incident with Tamara she had been relegated to the level of serving girl. Tamara felt a surge of guilt at that Adelaide had been reduced to such a low level, but reminded herself what the alternative might have been.

Apparently, Voldemort thought mingling to be beneath him and he pushed through the crowd at the first available opportunity. He pulled Tamara along with him as he made his way into a room that contained a table that was a fitting rival for the house tables at Hogwarts. The gathered crowd followed without question and Voldemort made his way to the head of the table, as the rest of the throng began to take their seats.

"Stand at the head of the table, daughter, and sit when they have all been seated. Dinner will begin at your command." Voldemort told her in a low whisper.

"You're not staying, Father?" She asked in surprise. He shook his head.

"I have told you that I have work to attend to this night. I will return for you after dinner. I expect you to act responsibly in my absence and within the bounds of Severus' permission." With that, he swept out of the room and left her to head the dinner party. Flummoxed at the idea that she required a baby sitter, and doubly so that she had been left to represent the Dark Lord, she cast a nervous look at Snape who had taken the seat at her right side.

When everyone was seated, she followed suit and took her own seat. In true Hogwarts fashion, a banquet of food appeared on the table as if out of thin air. Bemused, Tamara had to wonder just how much Voldemort had been influenced by his school days. The throng began to tuck in, engaging each other in light chatter as they ate and indulging in the occasional glass of elf-made wine. Tamara wasn't particularly hungry but opted to pick at bits of salad until the dinner was over, saying nothing unless she was spoken to first. Though this was partly because she wished only for the whole evening to be over and had no desire to engage in boring chatter with Death Eaters and their guests, it was also partly due to something Narcissa had told her during the course of their shopping trip. Narcissa had explained the duties that were usually expected of her as a woman, including silence unless addressed. And though Tamara detested the expectation that women were supposed to behave in this manner, she knew it was important to keep up appearances so as not to give away her true intentions.

After dinner, people began to leave the table and after the last guest had left their seat the table disappeared, leaving only a great empty hall the soft music that had now begun to play. Wanting a moment alone to gather herself, she told Snape that she was going to the bathroom. She relished the moment's quiet that the short trip granted her, but on her way back to the throng a death eater who seemed to have become highly intoxicated bumped into her, almost knocking her down. After offering very slurred apologies, he began to talk.

"So, I'm meeting the daughter of the Dark Lord at last." He said. She forced a smile.

"It's a privilege to be here." She lied, wishing he would leave her alone.

The death eater appeared not to be concerned with niceties and rambled on. "Ready for the job tonight then?" He asked. This took Tamara aback. Voldemort had left to attend to some work that had to be done, but this Death Eater seemed to expect her to become a part of it. Perhaps this was the break she had been waiting for. Perhaps she could bluff more information out of him.

"Of course. Do you think it will be successful?" She asked, trying to stay cool.

"Let's hope so." He replied, starting to sway where he stood. "All that business with horcruxes... it's no wonder his soul unstable. And it ain't like his attempts to use those other people's souls is making a difference. If you really can help with the bonding process, it'll be one up for us."

At the mention of the horcruxes, a long past conversation with Harry Potter sailed into her mind. They had just attended Dumbledore's funeral and were sitting by the edge of the lake. Harry had told her about the horcruxes and his mission to destroy them.

So Voldemort was becoming unstable because his endeavours. Oh it wouldn't kill him, not while fragments of his soul were still in existence, but it would surely make his magic erratic and difficult to manage. If what the death eater said was true, he seemed to be attempting to use other people's souls to stabilise what was left of his own and it seemed that it wasn't working. And the job that had to be done tonight... did he really think that her power would be able to accomplish what he had so far been unsuccessful in achieving?

Almost paralytic now, the death eater staggered backwards and hit his head against the wall. Tamara couldn't help but wonder at the sheer stupidity of Voldemort's death eaters where alcohol was concerned and wondered how he would react if he realised that one of his most trusted minions was volunteering information so freely. But then, she was his daughter and it wasn't so farfetched that they would expect her to be privy to this information already. It was a serious misjudgement on the part of the death eater, and one that had worked entirely to her advantage.

Finally able to extricate herself from the death eater's company now, she hurried back to the hall to find Snape, hoping that the rest of the evening would pass quickly so that she could tell him everything she had discovered. She spotted him at the far side of the hall and hurried through the gathering crowd of dancers to take her place by his side.

"Calm yourself, Tamara." Snape whispered, standing beside her.

"I've got something to tell you." She whispered back, composing herself so that she wouldn't draw unnecessary attention. At that moment, however, one of the dancing couples lost their footing and stumbled into Tamara. Snape sent a well placed hex their way and took the opportunity to whisk Tamara out of the hall.

She followed without question, doing her best to match his brisk pace which wasn't easy in the high-heeled shoes she was wearing. He led her up the grand staircase but rather than enter the little room that they had made their entrance from, he veered to the left and down a corridor. Finally, they arrived at a luxurious looking lounge that was quiet and sparsely populated.

The walls were dark, with gold trimmings. Three large sofas were positioned in the middle of the room, with maroon velvet coverings. An impressive fireplace was positioned at the far end of the room, almost taking up a whole wall, and a low intricately carved coffee table stood in front of the sofas. Two immaculately dressed men stood near the fireplace, a cigarette holder dangling from the fingers of one of them. On one of the sofas sat Narcissa Malfoy and a refined looked blonde-haired man who Tamara guessed to be her husband, Lucius. Lucius wore a preoccupied expression and Narcissa was unreadable, though both stood respectfully as Snape approached with Tamara in tow.

"We have not yet had the honour of meeting." Lucius said in an oily voice as they all took their seats. Leaning forward, he kissed the back of her hand.

"The honour is mine." She gave the customary reply. "I have already had the privilege of meeting your wife." She told him, politely. He smiled in return, his expression matching his voice now. Despite his manner, though, his intentions seemed to be nothing but respectful of her, the daughter of the Dark Lord, and with Snape sitting beside her she felt at ease.

The four exchanged small talk for a while until a knock at the door attracted their attention. Adelaide stood in the doorway looking extremely uncomfortable.

"You may enter." Lucius called to her, at which Adelaide promptly approached. Kneeling, she addressed them.

"I have been instructed to deliver a message to the lady." She said, referring to Tamara. "The Dark Lord requires her presence in the outer courtyard. He requests that she attend alone." Adelaide spoke in a quiet and humble voice that unnerved Tamara. How she wished she could have saved her old friend.

"Thank you. You may go." Lucius dismissed Adelaide. Once the blonde girl had left, he leant forward to give her directions to the outer courtyard and feeling a flutter of nervousness, Tamara took her leave.

* * *

The outer courtyard turned out to be quite a distance from the main house and when Tamara arrived there she knew at once that they were not likely to be disturbed. A large circle had been drawn on the ground with strange markings at its circumference. Voldemort sat on his knees at the centre, and beside the circle stood a robed and masked Death Eater holding one of the jars that she recognised from Gringotts. Her stomach turned at the thought that yet another human being's soul was at stake.

"My daughter, welcome to the ceremony. I have worked tirelessly to prepare and now at last I believe that it is ready. Tonight, the eve of the day the fools call Christmas, has traditionally been a day of waxing power, and the energies of our guests will no doubt fuel our magic." It was all the explanation that Voldemort gave her, but thanks to the drunken death eater she had already begun to understand what Voldemort was going to try to accomplish tonight. She understood his belief to be that a combination of astrological alignments and an excess of power would result in success in bonding with another human soul where before he had failed. Confirming her thoughts, he gave his instruction; that she summon her magic and add it to his own when he gave the command.

At once, another understanding came to her. Though she wasn't wearing Dumbledore's ring, she could intuitively sense it speaking to her from within the realm of her handbag, telling her that which Voldemort would never be able to fathom and immediately she knew that Voldemort's plan would not work. Sheer brute force would not be the answer to unifying two souls. She knew that human souls were unique and all equally worthy of respect. They were not dispensable objects to be used and discarded at will. Since Voldemort had never viewed another human being in this way, it resulted in a vital flaw that meant he would never understand why such a joining could never work.

A devious thought presented itself to her and under its influence she decided not to attempt to explain to him this one vital problem. If he wished her to comply with his command then she would... to the absolute best of her ability. Using brute force would not help Voldemort achieve his desired ends, but it could allow her the opportunity to weaken him a little and perhaps make it known that she was not a person to be toyed with. And under the guise of complying with his command, he could not suspect her of having any ill intentions.

Both Voldemort and the death eater began the ceremony by chanting separate incantations in Latin, as Tamara began the power drawing exercises that she had been taught in the defensive lessons that Snape had once given her at Hogwarts. At once, she could feel the power coursing through her veins, building momentously within her. When Voldemort gave the command, she released it all into the circle, forcing it with all her might.

What happened next shocked them all as a small explosion of blue light rippled through the circle as the force of their combined magic came into contact with the soul that Voldemort had begun to attempt to bond with. Though in retrospect the explosion was small, it was intense nonetheless and Voldemort was thrown up into the air and he landed back down on the ground again with a thud. Finally, the magic subsided and Tamara could tell at once that Voldemort knew he had become no closer in achieving success. His expression was inscrutable. It was clear that he had not expected this to happen.

Surprising Tamara, he dismissed the death eater and called for her, allowing her to tend to him as he rose to his feet. It was a simple gesture and yet it struck Tamara how odd it seemed that he had simply accepted her as his daughter. Suddenly, she found the thought tumbling from her.

"We were once enemies. It is astonishing to me that you have accepted me as your daughter considering our history." She said, almost to herself.

An unsettling smile appeared on his face. "Why would I take by force what you seem to give of your own free will?" At that, Voldemort fell silent, forcing Tamara to decipher his cryptic words.


	31. December, Part 3

**Author Note:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your words are so encouraging! Elza; yep that was what I was going for :) Thanks to LittleSecrets for adding Fire and Ice to your alerts.

Next week's chapter will be out on thursday (11/5/10) as I'm going away straight after, but then you might not hear from me for a couple of weeks as I won't be near the net where I'm going. I hope you won't mind too much, but I will be back to posting as soon as I can.

This week's chapter is a bit lighter than the last ones, so I hope you like it. Happy reading!

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**Chapter 31 – December, Part 3  
**

_~ Time rolls his ceaseless course,_

_The race of yore, who danced our_

_Infancy upon their knee, and told our_

_Marvelling boyhood legends store of_

_Their strange ventures happ'd by land_

_Or sea, How blotted are they from the_

_Things that be! How few, all weak and_

_Withered of their force, wait on the_

_Verge of dark eternity, like stranded_

_Wrecks, the tide returning hoarse,_

_To sweep them from our sight!_

_Time rolls his ceaseless course. ~_

_- Sir Walter Scott_

Tamara and her Father began the walk back to the house, and the party, but when the sounds of the party began to sail towards them Voldemort decided to disapparate, giving Tamara permission to either stay at the party or leave. Voldemort was not known for his patience, and it was clear that he was both drained and frustrated at the failed attempt to bond with the soul. Tamara decided to stay long enough to find Snape.

Returning to the house, she searched the crowd. Seeing Snape nowhere on the ground floor, she decided to return the quiet upstairs lounge to see if he was still there. To her relief, there he was. He took one look at her weary expression and understanding her sentiments at once, he frog-marched her back to the empty little room. He asked her what had happened, but when she simply said that Voldemort had left for the night, he had apparated her home. In her tiredness, she forgot that she now had her apparation license and she welcomed the comfort of his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her to disapparate them both.

In the safety of the apartment once more, she turned towards the apartment's only window, which was in the living room, and pensively gazed out onto London's industrial landscape. She pulled her hair out of its elegant knot and left her curls to fall freely down her back before folding her arms in front of her, her thoughts turning over and over in her mind. When at last she turned away from the window, Snape pulled her into his embrace and she told him everything that had happened. He listened in shock as Voldemort's plan regarding the souls in Gringotts was finally revealed to him.

Tamara was unnerved about Voldemort's words to her at the end of the ceremony and wanted to form a plan of action, but Snape thought it was more prudent to wait. To act now, before they were ready, would be tantamount to declaring open war. When he reminded her of this, she remembered Harry's hunt for the horcruxes. Nothing could be done until they were eliminated, so they would have to bide their time until that day came. Tamara realised that she had never told Snape about this. The reason for this had largely been down to the long amount of time that had passed before his first night time visit to see her at Elizabeth's apartment, and when he had returned their reunion and other conversations had pushed it from her mind. Tonight, when the death eater had mentioned it, had been the first time since the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts that she had given any thought to Harry and his formidable task. She wondered whether she should tell Snape now, but she had gotten the distinct feeling that Harry had purposefully shrouded his task in secrecy. In any case, Snape had had occasion to be secretive about information, too, in the past. He would understand.

Battling against exhaustion now, Tamara and Snape retired to the bedroom. Protected by the solitude of the closed bedroom door, Snape reached forward to help her out of her dress. He tapped the back with his wand and at once a seam opened, allowing enough room for him to ease the sleeves off her shoulders, his hands brushing enticingly against her skin as the dress sank to the floor. She stepped out of the dress and he scooped her up, carrying her toward the bed and easing himself on top of her and devouring her lips with his.

Heatedly, she grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him closer to her as she began to fumble with his many buttons. After a moment, his shirt hung open and he impatiently pulled it off. Lying atop her in only his trousers now, she ran her hands over his bared back and reached up for another kiss. She wound her legs about his waist as he gripped her hips. Unable to help himself, he ground his hips against hers and immediately she could feel his growing arousal. She moaned, blissfully, at the sheer joy of the rare moment of intimacy that they were able to share.

After a time, however, they began to slow. Tamara sighed as he gazed into her eyes. Gently, she reached up to tuck his long black hair behind his ear. "One day..." She breathed.

He smiled, tracing her lips with his forefinger. "One day." He echoed. Entirely content, he laid his head on her chest and sleep soon fell upon him, lulled by the steady rhythm of her heart beat.

* * *

The next morning, Tamara awoke to an empty bed. She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to erase both her confusion and the remainder of her sleepiness. It was only when she had propped herself into a sitting position that she noticed a new rose had been added to the small collection on her bedside table. At once she understood that Snape must have been called away by Voldemort in the night. _It was to be expected_, she reasoned. After all, Voldemort had left the party feeling both frustrated, possibly angry, and devoid of energy. It was to be expected that he would require the presence of a trusted servant. Nonetheless, when Tamara remembered that it was Christmas morning she felt somewhat bittersweet that she wouldn't be able to share it with Snape, and hoped that he would return before the day was over. Fleetingly, she wondered whether Voldemort might call for her, but then he didn't seem to care much for Christmas festivities. He had proven that when he had told her that the only reason he had consented to allow his minions to have a Christmas party was that it was necessary for work that had to be done.

Satisfied that she wouldn't have to worry about her biological father for a time, she groggily got out of bed and wrapped herself in a vivid blue fleece dressing gown that was emblazoned with the Ravenclaw emblem. It had once been her Hogwarts bathrobe, but it had been more comforting to wear than her usual robe and so she had continued to use it despite no longer being a student of Hogwarts.

Throwing her mass of curls into a loose ponytail, she left her bedroom and headed for the kitchen in search of a much needed cup of tea. Her mission to acquire a cup of tea, however, was interrupted by a loud joyous cry from the living room.

"Merry Christmas, Tamara!" The voice of Allison Edgecombe came sailing toward her. Her adoptive mother rushed toward her in a great flurry of energy and pulled her into a tight embrace. Allison steered her away from the kitchen and toward the living room, which was occupied by both Elizabeth and John Edgecombe.

Tamara sighed, inwardly. After her ordeal the previous night she craved a quiet day to recuperate and gather her thoughts. A part of her had forgotten the inevitable festivities that she would have to face today, Christmas Day. She knew she should have expected to see her adoptive parents but Voldemort's grand and tumultuous Christmas event had pushed it from her mind, only to be brought crashing back to her before she had had a chance to properly feel awake.

Casting her bleary eyes about the living room, Tamara saw that it had been heavily decorated. Tinsel covered every available surface and a modest tree stood in the corner of the room. Baubles hung from every branch, and a large plastic star with peeling paint sat on the tree's topmost point. In an instant, Tamara regretted not having been able to help Elizabeth with the decorations. Under other circumstances, it might even have been a fun activity to share in. But her cousin understood the requirements of Tamara's mission and accepted it without complaint.

"Open your presents, sweetheart!" Allison encouraged, beaming at her. Wearily, Tamara turned her attention to a small pile of brightly wrapped parcels that lay modestly beneath the tree. Part of her was enormously grateful that her adoptive mother was offering her an utterly normal day, but still she found herself unable to shake her thoughts from the monstrosity that her mission, and her place in the war, had become.

Feigning a smile, she placed herself in front of the presents and unwrapped them one by one, pretending that she was, once more, just an ordinary girl enjoying the day that should have brought unequivocal happiness for them all. In the end, she found herself enjoying the pretence and even enjoyed the normality of the presents themselves; the usual sets of make-up, the latest fantasy novels and the bags of sweets.

John, however, shook her out of her false security and reminded her starkly of just what was missing from the blissfully ordinary Christmas morning. "So... will Severus be joining us?" He tentatively asked. Immediately, silence fell over the room and Tamara's heart sank in her chest. It was he who was missing from her blissful day and in that moment she knew that she would have traded all the normality in the world to be able to share this one day with him.

"I think he had to... work." She said, not knowing quite what else to say. John replied with a raised eyebrow.

"On Christmas day?" He asked, a faint sneer in his voice. Elizabeth shot him a glare and the subject passed, though it was plain to see from Tamara's newly subdued attitude that she missed having Snape with her on Christmas day.

To her surprise, however, Snape returned during Christmas dinner that evening. Tamara had just swallowed a mouthful of Yorkshire Pudding when a faint pop sounded from the living room. A blush crept over her cheeks. Dropping her fork, she excused herself from the table and hurried toward the living room. To her delight, Snape stood by the Christmas tree. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tightly.

"I think I interrupted your dinner. I'm sorry." He told her in a low voice.

"Don't be silly. You're part of the family now. Come and join us." She replied, looking up at him with such earnest that for a moment his breath caught in his throat. After leaving his own broken home during his school years family, along with friendships, had been missing from his life. And now she, who was in the midst of her own family upheaval, offered him those very things that he had long since convinced himself that he could live without. He wondered whether she realised the enormity of what she offered, or whether she understood that she still had those things herself.

"Tamara, I..." For once, he was at a loss for how to respond.

"What's wrong?" She asked, suddenly crestfallen.

"Nothing's wrong." He told her, reaching down to stroke her hair. "You took me by surprise. It's not something I've been told before."

She gazed back at him in astonishment, suddenly realising what she had said when Elizabeth and her adoptive parents began to file into the room, having finished dinner.

John nodded respectfully to Snape as they all sat down. For a time, they simply occupied themselves by watching reruns of _Only Fools and Horses_ on the television. Tamara sat on Snape's lap in one of the armchairs and she could tell that this aspect of family life was not something that he was used to. His body had become stiff and he tapped his foot restlessly on the floor.

After a time, Tamara's adoptive parents left for the night, leaving Tamara and Snape alone with Elizabeth, who made them all mugs of hot chocolate which they sipped under the calming influence of the Christmas tree's constantly blinking fairy lights. Elizabeth, using her discretion to allow the couple to enjoy some solitude, excused herself and went to bed, leaving Tamara alone with Snape in the living room.

"I'm so glad you we got to spend some of Christmas together." Tamara told him, brightly, after a few minutes spent in a comfortable silence.

"I have never had a reason to relish celebrating it before now. And I wanted to make up for the last one we shared. I recall it was a troubling time for us both." He spoke softly into the dim light, his words immediately reminding Tamara of the disastrous Potions Conference that had taken place the previous Christmas. Life was so very different now and it had made her cherish her growing relationship with Snape all the more. But suddenly she remembered something.

"Oh! Presents! Wait right here, I have something for you." She exclaimed, excitedly. With that, she jumped up and out of his arms, placed her mug of hot chocolate on the floor and bounded towards her bedroom. After a moment, she returned with a small package that was wrapped in silver paper. He looked up at her in surprise for what seemed like a long moment. Evidently, he had not expected to receive a gift.

When he finally took it, he began to tug at the paper gingerly until finally he revealed a small black box that was embossed with gold. Inside the box was a set of cufflinks. They featured onyx crystals set in silver.

"I figured they would go well with your many buttons, but they also come with a charm. If we ever get separated these will take you to where I am. They only work for the owner, so there's no chance that Voldemort will be able to misuse them." She explained, softly, hoping that he would like what she had chosen.

"Tamara, I..." His words trailed away. He gazed at the cufflinks in the box, speechless. He turned to look up at her and pulled her forward into a sudden passion kiss. When they broke apart, she perched herself on his lap once more, snuggling against him. But he didn't allow her the luxury of staying in her comfortable position. He pushed her into a sitting position and leaned over the edge of the armchair, retrieving a package that he had hidden there and handing it to her.

Tamara ripped at the paper to reveal a modest wooden box. Inside the box was an assortment of items, all cushioned in a mass of tissue paper. There was a set of ornate candle holders, a crystal goblet, and a dusty picture frame with a rose at the top corner. Within the frame was a photograph of a small girl, looking not unlike Tamara had looked when she was young, cradled in the arms of an older woman with bright eyes and a face that was lined with the beginnings of age. Tamara gazed at the objects with a strange feeling of faint recognition.

"These items belonged to your Mother. I know you never had an opportunity to know her, and I know it's not the same but I wanted to give you something of hers. These weren't easy to locate and I had a lot of help from your cousin." He told her.

Tears filled Tamara's eyes. Not only was she now holding the last remaining relics of her birth Mother's life, but Snape had gone to an incredible amount of effort to find them, including working with Elizabeth and although the two got on better these days, Tamara knew that it had been a long road to get to there.

"Oh Severus, I don't know what to say. This means so much to me." She told him, gazing up at him with glistening eyes. He smiled and gently brushed away an errant tear with his thumb. She placed her hand over his, kissing his thumb before he settled his hand on the arm of chair once more.

"I'm glad you like it." He whispered, his breath tickling her ear seductively. She smiled, reaching up for another kiss.

"Speaking of presents," she said once they settled to catch their breaths once more, "when is it your birthday? You never told me."

His eyes darkened. "I haven't celebrated my birthday for a long time, Tamara. Don't concern yourself with it."

"Really? Not once in all this time?" She exclaimed in surprise.

"No. Unless you count Dumbledore's customary insistence that I have a drink with him." He replied, a pensive look crossing his face.

"That sounds like him." She grinned. "So are you going to tell me?"

He sighed. "January 9th. You will not plan any parties or surprises."

"Would I do that?" She said, with mock offense. He smirked in reply.

"In any case, why does my birthday concern you so much?" He asked.

"Because I love you and I want to make it special. Is that so strange?" She told him, seriously.

"You really are wonderful, Tamara." He told him, kissing her forehead.


	32. Of Meetings and Birthday Surprises

**Author Note**: Thanks everyone for reviewing the last chapter. Another light one for you :) I'm afraid this one is rather short. It's been a busy week, and it's not the mos important chapter in the world anyway. I just needed it to move a bit of time forward really. I may go back and expand it a bit later when I've got more time, but for now this is the final product. There may be some slight mistakes, too, as I haven't had a chance to proofread as I usually do.

I'm off on holiday after today, so the next chapter will be up in two weeks instead of next week as I won't be on the internet while I'm away and I'm not sure what time I'll have to write.

Anyway, I've gotta go. Hope you enjoy this one and all the best :)

PS: As its rememberance day, don't forget your poppies! 

**Chapter 32 – Of Meetings and Birthday Surprises**

As December finally bowed out, making way for the New Year, so too came Snape's birthday. True to her word, Tamara promised that there would be no surprises and asked him what he wanted to do to celebrate. This, of course, was met reluctance. Tamara spent some time coaxing him and after reminding him of their conversation on Christmas night, he finally agreed to make a choice. To her surprise, however, he refused to tell her what it was that he had chosen. For a week, Tamara tried to figure out what he was up to, and even more importantly what she could possibly do to make his birthday a day to remember.

When the day finally dawned, Tamara awoke to find Snape sitting on the end of her bed and holding out a cup of tea for her.

"Wow. Shouldn't I be spoiling you?" She asked, smiling wryly. He smiled back at her and leaned forward to kiss her. "So, what are we doing on your big day?" She asked, trying once more to get him to tell her what his plans were.

"Get dressed when you've finished your tea. I'm taking you somewhere." He told her.

"Do I get any hints?" She asked, playfully. He shook his head.

"It's a surprise." He told her.

Tamara pouted. "I thought you said you didn't want any surprises." She pointed out.

"Ah, but it's not a surprise to me. It's a surprise for you." He countered.

"Isn't this supposed to be _your_ birthday?" She asked.

He lips curved upward in his token smirk. "And so it is."

She shook her head good-naturedly, secretly loving having the old mysterious Snape back. Draining the remainder of her tea, she hopped up from the bed. Dragging some clothes out of the wardrobe, she began to unceremoniously peel off her pyjamas. Snape couldn't help but blush at yet another reminder that this lithe young woman was really his girlfriend.

A few minutes later, Tamara was dressed and stood patiently waiting for Snape to tell her what was happening next. He held out her travelling cloak and told her to take hold of his hand. They were going to apparate.

* * *

Tamara gasped, a sharp inhale of breath filling her lungs as she took in her new surroundings. The place was amazing. Snape had brought her to a small beachside cove. Protected on all sides by tall cliff faces that stretched in a semi-circle, the sand was littered with occasional pebbles and the sea lapped lazily at the shore. The place looked untouched by human hands.

"I used to come to this place when I was young. I used to come here to think, to escape from the world for a while." Snape explained, standing beside her with the wind playing with his long black hair.

"Used to?" She asked, gazing at him impenetrably. He nodded.

"It's been 15 years since I last saw this place." He replied, thoughtfully watching the rhythmic movement of the waves.

"This place is incredible. Why would you want to stop coming here?" Tamara asked, quizzically.

"Too much has happened over the years. This is a place of unutterable peace. After all the darkness in my life, I simply couldn't face it. You put the light back into my life, Tamara. If I were to come back here, I wanted it to be with you." He turned to look at her, his eyes blazing with emotion. She gazed back at him, equal emotion shining in her face.

* * *

As time went by, Tamara's studies resumed as did her bi-weekly meetings with Mr Beadle who was pleased to see her old standards resurface once more. In fact, her show of power in the ceremony with Voldemort seemed to have unlocked a new determination to excel with the result that her practical lessons often left Mr Beadle exhausted and herself unstimulated. After having Snape to practise duelling with, Mr Beadle really posed little in the way of a challenge. And with Snape's coaching, her potions grades were now back to their usual 'outstanding' level, much to her joy.

It wasn't all smooth sailing, though. Thoughts of Voldemort lingered on her mind like a parasite that constantly sucked the joy out of life. For two months, she heard nothing from him. He didn't call for her, and nor was Snape able to return with any information. Voldemort hadn't mentioned his daughter since the Christmas event, and it seemed that life for the Death Eaters had returned to normal. This bothered Tamara, and one day she asked Snape if perhaps Voldemort was simply trying to keep her on edge as some sort of test. Snape conceded that this might be a possibility.

When Voldemort did finally call for her again, it was March. She sat before him at the large conference table feeling more guarded than ever. A smattering of Death Eaters were present too, including Bellatrix Lestrange who she recognised from the various "wanted" posters that had been strewn across town since the mass break-out from Azkaban a couple of years before. With her wild hair, gaunt face and hungered expression in her eyes, Bellatrix looked imposing. Tamara had to force herself to remember the power she had been born into to remain calm.

At present, Voldemort was venting his frustration at plans had gone awry. Since Christmas, he hadn't been able to attempt a new joining with another soul. The shared ceremony with Tamara had left him weakened. Of course, he didn't say as much to the congregation (who appeared to be the select few who knew about this particular plan). Voldemort had no desire to give a less than strong appearance to his followers. Tamara, however, knew better. She had been at the ceremony. She had felt the power and she had plainly seen how it had affected him. Suddenly it occurred to her that having Voldemort in such a weakened state would be an ideal time to make their move and attack him. If only Harry had destroyed all of the horcruxes.

Though the other Death Eaters would not have noticed, at least half of Voldemort's diatribe was directed at her. He seemed to be blaming his weakened state and the failure of his plans on her. He seemed to be under the impression that it should have been she to seal the bond between him and the chosen soul. When she had not, he blamed the failure on her and it took all of her restraint not to speak up and tell him that it had been he who had made the mistake, who had made grave misjudgements. Her common sense reminded her that to do so would be a very bad idea. Not only would it likely give Voldemort new arsenal with which to fight, but it would also alert everyone in the room to the fact that she was, in essence, a double agent.

After a while, Voldemort dismissed all those who were gathered at the meeting, leaving them all with various instructions to carry out. Relieved to be free of the meeting, Tamara disapparated before he had a chance to pull her aside and talk to her privately. She had no desire to be alone with Voldemort, just as she now no longer had any desire to know him as her biological father. She had seen first-hand what he was really like and she detested him.

When she arrived home the apartment was quiet. Elizabeth was working a shift at the hospital, and Snape was still at Voldemort's stronghold; Tamara had left before he had been able to return to accompany her himself. Frustrated at having to wait so long before she was able to act against Voldemort, she kicked the side of the couch, which wasn't such a bright idea since her foot began to throb with pain and the couch remained unmoved. Annoyed at herself, she flopped down onto the couch, alone with her thoughts.

Over the next couple of months, as March slowly turned into May, Tamara remained as motivated as ever. She continued to practise her defensive and offensive spells, often with Snape as a sparring partner. This was also coupled with her studies, since exam-time was beginning to draw near. All in all, it made for a busy few months and yet again it became common for Elizabeth to return home at the end of a long day shift to find the pair curled up together on the couch, fast asleep with exhaustion.


	33. Exams

**Author Note:** I'm back! Sorry you guys had to miss a week but I worked hard to get this done in time for today. I also had problems accessing the site today, so there might be delays because of that too. Anyway, I had a great time on my holiday and in many ways I wish I could have stayed!

I got a chance to see Deathly Hallows at the movies too the other day. Awesomeness! Even my boyfriend loved it! And gee even though our Snapey was only in it for a short time what an awesome job Mr Rickman did! If you haven't seen the movie yet, I hope you all get to soon :)

Gosh thank you so much for the encouraging reviews everyone! It was so nice to come home to those! Thanks to Alishaoftroy, Wendy Waddles, Elza, and Dontgotaclue88 for reviewing. Dontgotaclue and Alisha thanks for the encouragement and I'm so glad you're both enjoying it. Wendy I'm glad you liked the last chapter and didn't think the shortness detracted from the story too much. Elza I'm glad you thought the beach idea was cute. I wracked my brain trying to think of something fitting so I'm glad it was okay, and yeah I agree with not seeing the dark side much in the books. It also gives me some creative license in what I can do with story lines that feature that side too which is always interesting. As for what happens next in the beach scene… I sorta left that as one of those scenes that the reader's imagination can fill in the gaps on, but as I said at the top of my last chapter I was thinking about going back to it later on and expanding on the chapter more which I didn't have time to do before I went away, so stay tuned for that!

Thanks to the following for adding my story to favourite and alert lists; Alishaoftroy, Marze2403, Blackestnight10. Hope you continue to enjoy the story.

As usual, the next chapter will be out next Friday (3rd of December). Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 33 – Exams**

_~ 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;_

_I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;_

_For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,_

_Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew._

_Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;_

_Kind nature the embryo blossom will save,_

_But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?_

_Or when shall it dawn on the night of the grave? ~_

_- James Beattie_

Exam time was looming ever nearer and amongst her preparations Mr Beadle became the bearer of very surprising news. Tamara read the exam timetable that he had given her and raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the rooms that had been listed.

"There's a mistake with this." She said. "This is a Hogwarts timetable."

"There is no mistake, Miss Edgecombe. You will be completing your exams at Hogwarts." He told her, his expression telling her that in no way was this a joke. Tamara felt her heart deflate in her chest at the thought of revisiting the place that held so many memories for her.

"Why?" She asked, a little too indignantly. "I was under the impression that I would be completing my exams here."

"Ordinarily you would be but Professor Marchbanks' retirement has left us short staffed and the present atmosphere has seen far too many people leave their posts to go into hiding and the Ministry is struggling to cope. We can't spare any examiners at this time." Mr Beadle explained, matter-of-factly, as though the subject were closed. Tamara, however, pressed on.

"Couldn't you do it?" She asked.

"I am your instructor." He pointed out. "It would be a conflict of interest." He fell silent and searched Tamara's disappointed face. "Look, I know this is a disruption and I did broach these concerns to the head of department but the decision has been made. The Ministry feels that your educational needs would be better served this way. I'm sorry." Mr Beadle told her, sympathetically.

Slowly she nodded her head in acceptance. "Can I stay in Hogsmeade instead of the castle?" She asked, quietly.

"Well... obviously we would prefer you to stay at Hogwarts." He paused. She was wearing that disappointed expression again. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

A couple of weeks later found Tamara standing ready to apparate to Hogsmeade with her trunk at her side. Snape had promised to meet her there when he could manage it and had left her alone with Elizabeth. After some brief goodbyes were exchanged, Tamara took hold of her trunk and disapparated. She reappeared moments later outside The Three Broomsticks. The Ministry had consented to let her stay in the village on the condition that she didn't take to wandering around. During the days she was to stay on the grounds of Hogwarts, and in the evenings she was to stay in her room.

After being shown to her room by Madame Rosmerta, Tamara began the trek up to the castle. She was met at the gates by Hagrid who had been expecting her. Together they walked the long winding path toward the castle's large wooden front doors. As Hagrid heaved open the heavy doors, Tamara nervously wrapped her arms around herself, hoping that she wouldn't come across anyone she knew along the way.

Thankfully Hagrid led her towards the headmaster's office, the corridors toward which were little used and out of the way of the main traffic areas. Hagrid whispered a password at the stone gargoyle and ushered her toward the moving spiral staircase. She stepped onto it, realising with a jolt that it was not Dumbledore who would be waiting for her in the office above. Unsure how she felt about seeing Dumbledore's office after all that had happened, Tamara took a deep breath and held it in her throat.

The staircase ground to a halt as she reached the top and she knocked on the wooden door that now stood before her.

"Come in!" McGonagall called to her. Tamara obeyed and opened the wooden door to see McGonagall sitting behind the large oak desk. Dumbledore's possessions had long since been cleared away to make room for McGonagall's simple and efficient tastes. Books lined one of the walls arranged in alphabetical order and according to subject but otherwise the office remained devoid of personal affects and consisted only of the usual school awards, the sorting hat and a large array of portraits containing painted reproductions of the many witches and wizards who had once been master or mistress of the school. Dumbledore peered at her from his portrait and winked before disappearing completely. Tamara tore her eyes away from the empty frame and took the seat that McGonagall was offering her.

"I can't pretend that I was surprised that you chose to leave Hogwarts, but I think I understand why. Am I right in assuming that your reasons mirror Harry Potter's?" McGonagall asked, softness in her voice.

"You might be." Tamara replied with an air of vagueness, remembering the conversation she'd had with McGonagall following Dumbledore's death. "It isn't public knowledge and I would like to keep it that way for the time being." She said, trying to remain as diplomatic as possible.

McGonagall paused before replying and fixed her studious gaze on Tamara, clearly wanting to ask if there had been any significant blows against Voldemort that could be celebrated. "Have your endeavours been successful?" She asked, tentatively.

Tamara smiled. "I believe that I am close to achieving what I set out to do." Suddenly, something leapt within her and thanks to her blood connection to Voldemort she knew that the time for open warfare was getting closer. She glanced around her at the figures in the portraits who were now leaning in with great interest to hear their conversation. Getting up from her chair she slowly walked around the desk to whisper in McGonagall's ear. "The time is close to declare war. We are almost ready. Rally the Order of the Phoenix. You need to prepare yourselves. He has expended a lot of his energy on his pursuits and he is becoming weaker because of it. Your efforts in open warfare will be best spent on tiring him. Then we can do the rest." With that said, Tamara returned to her seat. McGonagall was staring at her in shock. It had been a risk even telling McGonagall that much. Tamara knew this. But somehow she just knew that the time was close for them to make their move and when they did, the Order would need to be ready.

Slowly, McGonagall nodded to show her understanding and nothing more was said on the subject. "How have you been?" She asked. "It can't have been easy finishing your studies away from your friends."

Once again Tamara smiled knowingly as Dumbledore's ring began to grow warm on her finger. "Oh, I haven't been alone." She said, thinking not only of Snape but of Elizabeth and all of the surreptitious help that Dumbledore had arranged before his death. "I've been quite lucky in that regard actually. I've had help from some rather unexpected sources." McGonagall was looking at her with the same furtive curiosity as the figures in the paintings now so Tamara went on, adding; "One day I'll explain properly. One day the time will be right."

Again McGonagall nodded in understanding, and again the subject was changed. "I presume that your Ministry officials have explained the special conditions surrounding your examinations?" She asked.

"Yes they have. I'm permitted to stay in Hogsmeade in The Three Broomsticks at night as long as I don't wander around the village, and during the day I'm to stay on the grounds of Hogwarts." Tamara replied.

"We have arranged a desk for you at the front of the examination rooms, though essentially you will be taking the same assigned exams as the other students. Is there anything you want to ask?" McGonagall told her, her usual business-like exterior appearing once more. Tamara shook her head and McGonagall told her that she could leave.

Tamara's first exam didn't start for another thirty minutes, but as there was little to do now before the exam she made her way toward the Great Hall to wait. To her surprise, the corridor outside the Hall was not empty. A few of the more dedicated students had already made their way there and were revising together. Tamara recognised them only in passing and fished her transfiguration notes out of her pocket to occupy herself. Not ten minutes later, more students began to arrive. Tamara recognised many of them and they stared at her in surprise but nodded at her as they passed. Thankful for the lack of questions and for the acceptance, Tamara breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, however, she spotted two faces that made her feel uneasy. Jez and Thalia were approaching. They stopped short when they saw Tamara and stared at her in shock.

Approaching slowly, the three girls regarded each other. A long awkward moment passed as none knew quite what to say. Suddenly, Jez lunged forward and pulled Tamara into a strong bear-hug. When the two parted, both girls found themselves surprised at what had just happened and Jez wiped a tear from her eye.

"I'm so sorry, Tamara!" Jez exclaimed. "That day was such an emotional day. I think we were too hasty in our judgement. We knew we should have trusted you!"

"I suppose you couldn't write to me and tell me this." Tamara replied. Despite the nature of their reunion it was hard not to be angry. Both Jez and Thalia exchanged guilty looks.

"We didn't think you'd want to hear from us after what happened on the train." Thalia explained in her rich lilting voice.

"We've been so worried about you, though!" Jez cut in. "What's been happening?"

"Now isn't the time to explain." Tamara replied, lowering her voice and casting her gaze at the rest of the students who had gathered to attend the theory of transfiguration NEWT. The examiner had appeared from within the hall, a little witch with a shock of grey curls. The witch ushered them all into the hall and Tamara took her seat at her assigned desk at the front. In a show of loyalty, Jez and Thalia took the desks beside her.

* * *

When the exam was over, Tamara stretched and glanced across at her two friends. It seemed odd that she should be on speaking terms with them again after all that had happened. As the students were dismissed until their practical exam that afternoon, and for lunch, Tamara followed Jez and Thalia out of the hall.

"Is there somewhere private we can go?" Tamara whispered. Thalia nodded and led them away from the hall. It was not to the library that they went but up the familiar path toward Ravenclaw tower. They didn't stop at the relatively occupied common room but up toward the dormitories. Thalia led them up to the very top of the staircase. Opening the door, they traipsed into the tiny room that lay beyond it. Thalia locked the door behind them with her wand and gestured to some dusty chairs.

"No-one ever uses this room. We found it not long after school started this year." Jez explained, lighting an old lamp with her wand.

"What's been happening?" Tamara asked. "Have I missed much?"

"I've been trying not to use my psychic abilities." Thalia explained, a dark expression crossing her face.

"What? Why?" Tamara exclaimed, unable to conceal her surprise.

"Voldemort used me far too easily to get to you. It scared me, Tamara. I've been trying to learn better techniques to control it." Thalia replied. Though outwardly she seemed to be happy with this decision, there was something in her eyes that suggested otherwise.

"Thalia, it was not your fault that I met Voldemort that day. That meeting would have happened no matter whether he used you or not. I was meant to meet him that day." Tamara explained, trying to console Thalia. "Don't give up on your psychic abilities. It truly is a gift." Thalia smiled shyly at the encouragement but let Jez press the conversation on.

"So..." Jez began, looking a little nervous. "About Snape..." It was a subject that they had all been hesitant to raise but one that needed discussion if they were to truly make amends to their friendship.

Tamara took a deep breath and wondered where to start. "He's been helping me." She finally decided. "He really is a double agent. If it weren't for him I would have been killed a long time ago."

Both Jez and Thalia were gazing at her with rapt expressions, clearly wanting to know more about the truth about Snape. "And has he... you know... shown anymore interest in you after what happened last year?" Jez was clearly angling to know about their relationship. Despite her previous misgivings about Snape, she still couldn't help but want to know the gossip.

"Well, we've sort of been together for most of the last year." Tamara replied, suddenly finding herself staring fixatedly at the floor.

Jez let out a low whistle. When Tamara lifted her gaze once more she found herself looking at Thalia. The two girls stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an inordinately long time until finally they both reached out to each other and grasped each other's hands. Thalia's eyes fluttered shut and she took a sharp intake of breath, seeing psychically at will for the first time since the fateful day that Dumbledore had died.

When they broke apart, Thalia's expression softened and sudden tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry we doubted you." She whispered, tears beginning to stain her gothic powder-white cheeks. Of course by now Jez could tell that Thalia had seen the truth and that Tamara had been right to trust Snape all along.

"I can't believe we were so wrong about Snape." Jez exclaimed. "I'm not quite sure I want to imagine him in a relationship though." She added. The girls grinned at each other and giggled madly. Snape had been considered the resident "snarky, greasy-haired git" for so long that the thought of him in love remained an odd thought indeed. "So Dumbledore really did ask Snape to end his life?" Jez asked once their laughter had quietened. Tamara nodded.

"Yes. He didn't want to tell before he had to do it because he didn't think I'd react very well. I don't think he wanted to risk falling too much for me if it meant getting hurt later." Tamara said, thinking back to the difficult times that they'd weathered before the end of the previous school year.

"I think he had fallen for you anyway at that point." Thalia suddenly said, remembering a vision she had seen a long time ago. "I think it would have hurt him all the same if you had reacted badly."

"I think you're right." Tamara agreed, silently thankful that the subject of Dumbledore hadn't been pursued. She brushed the ring lightly with her fingers, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell them about it. So far only Snape and Elizabeth knew. Tamara hadn't even told McGonagall. After what seemed like a long internal battle had taken place, she decided to opt for discretion and keep the information to herself for the time being. One day the time would come when she would be free to tell them everything.

"So, you got to meet Elizabeth. What's she like?" Jez asked, a glimmer of excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Elizabeth is amazing." Tamara told them, emphatically. "I've been living with her. It's been so much easier to operate from London than the little country town where I grew up. In fact, it was Elizabeth who helped me to convince my adoptive parents that it was a good idea."

"I bet it would have been good for you to get to know her and learn more about your family." Thalia interjected, thoughtfully. Tamara paused before responding, thinking suddenly about Voldemort and the awful truth that he was her biological father. And then, all at once, tears were falling down her cheeks and the belief that she had come to accept this truth crumbled down around her. She knew now that she would never come to terms with the idea that she had been sired by a monster who had committed a depraved act.

"I met my father." Tamara whispered through her tears. "Voldemort." The words were out before she realised that she had even spoken them, enunciated so quietly that Jez and Thalia had to strain to hear. But they heard nonetheless. At first they thought they had misunderstood what Tamara had told them and responded with confused expressions. But when Tamara didn't offer a correction and continued to quietly cry they realised the enormity of what they had just been told. Looks of horror crossed their faces at Tamara's ordeal and the two girls jumped off their chairs and drew Tamara into a tight group hug. When they finally broke apart, Tamara grimly explained that she had met Voldemort relatively infrequently over the course of the last year, though she kept the details of the visits to herself. It was enough, for now, that they knew what they did and that they accepted it.

After everything had been said, Thalia interjected once more with yet another piece of her typical wisdom. "Of course, this is why you and Snape were destined to fall in love." She began. Tamara shot her a quizzical look and Thalia went on. "I had a vision a long time ago that I didn't quite understand until now. You represent two opposites; light and dark, fire and ice... together you unite those forces and together you will be able to restore balance to the wizarding world through overthrowing the Dark Lord."

When Thalia fell silent Tamara gazed back at her with sudden knowing. Thalia was right. She wouldn't be able to conquer the demons alone and nor was she meant to. Harry Potter was of course performing his vital role in destroying the horcruxes but it would be she and Snape standing together unified, and alongside Harry they would be able to finally accomplish what needed to be done. The power of love would conquer all... Dumbledore's defence against the dark arts lesson from so long ago came rushing back to her. Dumbledore, it seemed, had foreseen all of this. Dumbledore had known.

* * *

The remainder of the exam week at Hogwarts passed in a surreal blur. Every day, Tamara headed to the castle of Hogwarts to sit her exams and spent her lunch times in Jez and Thalia's company before returning to Hogsmeade each evening. It was strange to be back at the old castle again after so much time had passed and yet the familiarity of it came rushing back to her. In no time at all, it felt as though she had never left. Two things, however, reminded her of the time that had really passed; the absences of both Dumbledore and Snape. Snape hadn't yet come to see her at Hogsmeade as he had promised. Though Tamara was disappointed, she knew for herself now what the pressures of working for Voldemort were like.

On Thursday evening, the eve before her final exam, Tamara was greeted by rather surprising visitors upon her return to Hogsmeade. As she made her way through the bar of The Three Broomsticks and said good evening to Madame Rosmerta, an invisible hand grabbed hold of her arm. It took all of her restraint not to jump straight into the air in shock as Hermione Granger's disembodied voice whispered in her ear saying "don't worry its Harry, Ron and me."

Tamara led the invisible trio up the stairs and to the little room that she had been staying in. Once the door was closed, an invisibility cloak was thrown off and Harry Potter, her old friend Hermione, and Ron Weasley suddenly appeared in front of her. A sudden realisation came over Tamara as her gaze locked with Hermione's. The time for the final act was almost upon them.

"You've done it?" Tamara asked, breathlessly.

"We've destroyed five of the six horcruxes and we think that the last one is at Hogwarts." Hermione told her, knowing now what Harry had told Tamara by the lake after Dumbledore's funeral.

"Does he know?" Tamara asked, her heart pumping forcefully in her chest.

"I'm not sure," Harry responded, "but all the same I don't think we should wait." At this, Harry took a battered old map out of his pocket and examined it. "It looks like all of the old passageways have been blocked off. We'll need your help to get into the castle."

"I can help you but the gates to the castle grounds are closed at night and magically reinforced. I won't be able to get you in until Hagrid opens the gates for me in the morning. You'll have to wear that invisibility cloak too." Tamara told them, going over plans in her mind.

"Actually, I wanted to know about that. I thought you left Hogwarts like we did. What were you doing coming back here from up there?" Harry asked.

"Is that how you knew I was here?" Tamara asked. The trio nodded, evidently having seen her walking back from the castle when they had arrived in Hogsmeade themselves. "Well," Tamara continued, "the Ministry run correspondence courses for students in special circumstances so I've been trying to keep up to date with my studies. Its exam week and the ministry couldn't spare any examiners so I had to come back here. Tomorrow is my last day." She explained. Harry shook his head in disbelief and turned toward a little table upon which stood a jug of water. He poured a glassful of the water and drank deeply. It was obvious that he didn't approve. Hermione, however, turned to Tamara while Ron looked on.

"How have you been?" Hermione asked, concern and fatigue lining her face.

Tamara sighed. "It's been a long year." She said. "I've got some information that might interest you though. The last piece of Voldemort's soul is weak and unstable from splitting it for horcruxes. He's been trying to compensate by using dementors to take souls from others. He's been trying to unite his soul with them to strengthen himself again. He hasn't been successful, though. The attempts have made him weaker if anything but he's frustrated by this and his anger makes him more dangerous than ever. Not many death eaters are privy to this information. He's kept it very quiet."

"If there aren't many death eaters who know about this, how did you find out?" Ron asked, looking from Harry to Hermione and back to Tamara again with a faint look of bewilderment.

Meanwhile, Tamara felt her heart sink in her chest. "I thought you might ask that." She told them all. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to tell them the information that she knew they wouldn't react well to. "I've had some help actually. Snape really is a double agent for our side." As soon as the words were spoken they rang out and hung in the atmosphere as though she had just said something highly offensive.

Harry slowly turned to look back at her, a look of obvious disdain in his eyes. "You mean to tell me that you've been working with that murdering traitor?" He asked, his hands shaking by his sides.

"You don't understand, Harry. Dumbledore..." Tamara began, but Harry cut her off.

"You're damn right I don't understand!" He fumed.

"Please listen!" Tamara exclaimed, desperately. "The ring horcrux contained a curse. When Dumbledore tried to destroy it, the curse rebounded on him. It was killing him, Harry. He was going to die a painful and humiliating death. He thought that he could avoid that and save Draco Malfoy at the same time by asking Snape to do it instead."

"I don't believe it." Harry whispered, his voice reverberating with cold anger. "He's fed you lies and you swallowed it."

"It's the truth. He's done a lot of good in the last year. If it weren't for him I would be dead by now. Even Thalia agreed..." Her words trailed away as hot tears began to sting her eyes.

"What's Thalia got to do with it?" Ron suddenly asked, remembering Tamara's gothic friend from their short stay in Grimmauld Place. Harry shot him a look of confusion.

"Thalia is a friend of Tamara's, Harry. That gothic girl who's in Ravenclaw; She's psychic." Hermione explained before turning back to Tamara. "She really saw that?" She asked, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

"Yes she did. I promise you it's the truth." Tamara reinforced, hoping that at least Hermione would accept what she was saying. She knew deep down that it would take something greater than mere words for Harry to be able to move past so many years of loathing but with Hermione's allegiance at least it might make for some sort of 'agree to disagree' truce. To her immense relief, Hermione's expression softened into a look of understanding and sympathy. Harry, however, managed to find yet more weapons of discomfiture.

"Even if what you say is true, why on earth would he compromise his position for you?" He asked. At once, Tamara looked wildly at Hermione. Hermione had known about the growing feelings she'd had for Snape back when they were all still students at Hogwarts and Tamara silently prayed that Hermione would connect the dots and realise how their relationship had developed since.

It took Hermione a moment to decipher the wild looks Tamara was shooting her, but when she did she immediately jumped to the rescue. "I don't think that really matters, Harry." Hermione said. "We know that Snape has done a lot of good for the Order of the Phoenix in the past and he probably knows about Tamara from Dumbledore." Hermione knew that this didn't sound very convincing and her nervous tone didn't help. Harry, however, merely shot them both an icy look and preoccupied himself with the old map once more.

Tamara was thankful that the conversation was now closed, even if it was on rather tense terms. In the end, though, she hadn't really expected Harry to react any differently and his silence was perhaps even a good sign. After all, he hadn't chosen to continue the argument. He had begrudgingly accepted defeat and left the two girls and Ron to their thoughts.

That night, the trio shared Tamara's room. Tamara had managed to magically duplicate the pillows on her bed and three sleeping bags were brought out of a tiny beaded handbag that Hermione was carrying. Tamara couldn't help but admire Hermione's spell-work.

Tamara spent many hours awake with her thoughts as the trio slept on the floor in their sleeping bags. The next morning, they accompanied Tamara to the castle hidden under the invisibility cloak. The barrier charms protecting the bounds of the castle grounds were momentarily lifted as Hagrid greeted Tamara at the front gates and once they had all passed over the grounds, through the front doors and had stepped across the threshold into the entrance hall Tamara heard a whispered "thanks" and then neither heard from nor saw any other trace of the trio for the rest of the day.

Despite enjoying the fact that today was the last day of her N.E.W.T examinations (which really were nastily exhausting) and enjoying the company of her friends for the first time all year, Tamara couldn't help but worry about Harry and the others. If they succeeded in destroying the last horcrux today as they intended to do then it would mean that the time for open warfare was upon her. And though Jez and Thalia could plainly see that she was preoccupied, they didn't press her about it. Instinctively they both seemed to understand that the present moments were critical and that dangerous times now were descending on the wizarding community.

When the time came to leave the castle, Tamara was reluctant to do so. She shared a tight group hug with Jez and Thalia, making them promise to be on their guard and ready for whatever might come to pass. When she entered her little room in The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, she found Snape sitting on the end of her bed. He stood up immediately and strode toward her purposefully. He gripped her tightly around the waist and his expression told her that this was not a social visit.

"Severus, I had a visit from Harry Potter last night. I think he's almost finished the task that Dumbledore set him." She said, not losing any time and getting straight to the point.

He took a sharp inhalation of breath. "I think the time is upon us." He said, his voice grave. "Tamara, he is calling for you. He is in a mood I have never seen before. You need to be prepared."

Tamara nodded in understanding and immediately pulled him into a final kiss before they apparated to meet what was awaited them. Voldemort wore a terrifying expression as they appeared before him.

"Here girl." He said in a cold mirthless voice but he didn't wait for her to move away from Snape. He lunged toward her and gripping her painfully by the arm, he pulled her roughly forward and away from Snape.

"Severus!" She exclaimed, shooting Snape a fearful look in her moment of shock. But there was nothing to be done. Voldemort had taken her and disapparated before Snape could even react.

When they reappeared, Tamara saw that Voldemort had taken her to a small enclosed room that she didn't recognise. Unable to know where Snape had initially taken her to, nor unable to somehow communicate her present whereabouts, Tamara knew that she was in a terrible predicament. She hoped beyond hope that Voldemort would let go of her or turn away for a moment so that she could disapparate.

Voldemort gave her no such chance. A barrier spell was thrown over the room in an instant, preventing her from disapparating and with one wave of his wand she had been forced onto her knees. She looked up at him, trying to summon all the power she had. Her amulet began to glow brightly, almost burning her skin with its growing intensity.

Voldemort was staring down at her with an entirely emotionless expression which told her clearly that it no longer mattered to him whether she was his kin or not. Over the course of the last year, just as she had been pretending to be a good daughter to find out what his plans were, he had been manipulating her. He had cultivated some semblance of a relationship with her specifically to lead her to this very moment; to steal her magic in a move that entirely gave him the advantage.

Unexpected tears began to fall down her cheeks at the betrayal and her thoughts of the biological father she knew she would never have. Inwardly, she had come to believe that he would never hurt his own daughter and he had used this trust to his advantage. Yet again, Voldemort's manipulative skills had triumphed and her misplaced trust had led to her downfall. The amulet remained glowing around her neck even as she realised that things had gone very wrong...


	34. Narcissa's Redemption

**Author Note:** Thanks to AlishaofTroy, Dontgotaclue88, Wendy Waddles, and Elza (I'm about to send you a message now. Sorry for the wait) for reviewing the last. We're certainly getting into some pretty heavy stuff now, aren't we! Thanks also to SexySevvy (love the name!), and BabyAmyDoll for adding my story to your alerts/lists. I'm so amazed that I have readers who still enjoy reading this, and people who have stuck by the story for so long. It's been quite a few years in getting to this point, but I am so glad I picked it back up again. I'm so happy with how it's turned out.

On a side note, has anyone else seen "A Very Potter Musical" on youtube? If you haven't, I'd thoroughly recommend checking it out. It's absolutely hysterical! And the guy who plays Voldemort is brilliant!

Anyway, happy reading and the next will be out next friday (10th December) as usual. Have a good weekend everyone!

* * *

**Chapter 34 – Narcissa's Redemption**

"How long have you been working with Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked, his voice cold and unforgiving. Tamara stared at him in shock and surprise. This was not what she had expected him to say. "How long have you been helping him destroy my horcruxes? My own daughter... I suspected that you had no real loyalty to me, but I did not expect you to have a hand in destroying your own kin. I underestimated you."

She opened and closed her mouth, unable to know how to react. How had he known about the horcruxes? Was it possible that he had felt it when the shards of his soul had been destroyed? "Father, please..." She said, her voice coloured with desperation though her words trailed away, having no real idea what to say.

"Know this, Tamara. It was always my intention to take your magic and now that time has come. Despair in the thought that I have won and with your power the world will be mine to conquer." Voldemort snarled, looking down at her. With that, he began to chant, latin words beginning to fill her ears as he intoned the same spell that he had attempted to cast when they had first met on the night that Dumbledore had died the previous year. Once more, he was trying to steal her powers. Using her amulet, she threw up a magical shield and thanks to it she managed to retrieve her wand but this time Voldemort had the advantage. She tried her best to deflect his spell but her magic merely fizzled in the air when it met with his. It was starting to happen. Her magic was beginning to waver. Beginning to feel incredibly drained, she knew it was only a matter of time before her shield gave way leaving her completely vulnerable to Voldemort's spell. She bowed her head, not wanting to look at her father, and concentrated on putting her last drops of magic into her amulet and the shield it was producing.

At that moment, however, a loud crack shook the room and there was Snape. Beyond all hope he had somehow managed to find her and break through the barrier that Voldemort had created to prevent anyone from apparating or disapparating. Stunned, Tamara watched as Snape, his face contorted with anger, aimed his drawn wand at Voldemort.

"Of all of my servants, you were the last I would have expected a betrayal from, Severus." Voldemort growled.

"I played my part well." Snape replied, coldly.

"Then you will both _die_." Voldemort told him, pointing his wand in Snape's direction. But in the split second he had turned his attention away from the power stripping spell, Tamara was given a reprieve. Though her magic was incredibly depleted, she reacted in desperation and raised her wand to protect Snape. In a brief moment of confusion, Voldemort looked from Snape to Tamara. When he acted, he aimed his spell at her, casting a deflection spell that should have thrown her off her feet. Both Snape and Tamara reacted at the same time. Both fearing for the life of the other, their magic combined and forced Voldemort's spell back at him. For a brief moment, it looked like he had been electrocuted as he was lifted off his feet and momentarily locked in magical vines. When the magic subsided, Voldemort fell to the floor with a crash, panting with pain and exhaustion.

Tamara felt Snape's hand close around her own and he pulled her toward the locked and magically reinforced door. He aimed his wand and simply blasted the door off its hinges. When the way was clear, he took to a run and led her out.

"Severus, how did you find me?" Tamara asked as they flew down a long winding staircase.

"The cufflinks you gave me." He replied, flashing his wrist at her with a grin as one of the cufflinks glinted in the dim light. Instantly she remembered the Christmas present she had given him; the cufflinks that had been charmed to find her no matter where she was. She made a mental note to visit the owner of the shop she had bought them from and thank him should she ever get away.

At the bottom of the stairs, Snape took hold of her and prepared to disapparate, she would need his aid now thanks to Voldemort's spell. But suddenly, Tamara recognised where they were. This was the very same corridor of holding cells that she had once been contained in herself. She remembered being greeted by a disillusioned Adelaide who had also been contained here following a fight that she had started with Tamara, and relegated to menial servitude. What if she was still here? Tamara knew that she couldn't leave while there was still a chance that she could free her.

"Severus, where is Adelaide? Is she being kept here?" She asked, tugging the front of his robes with urgency.

"Tamara, we don't have time for that. The Dark Lord will be seething. He will have his death eaters here within minutes. We need to leave _now_." Snape argued.

"She doesn't deserve to be here either, Severus. I failed her once. I won't do it again. I have to find her." Tamara protested, stubbornly.

Snape took a desperate moment to think before giving his response. "I can't believe this." He said, shaking his head. "Follow me."

With that, he turned and led her down a dark passage. For what seemed like a long few minutes, Snape led the way through a labyrinth of doors and corridors before finally coming to a stop in front of one of the doors. He raised his wand to unlock the door, when suddenly a voice spoke behind them and they both froze.

"What are you doing, Severus?" A woman asked.

"Narcissa..." He began. "Miss Roebeck is required..."

"I know what has happened." Narcissa cut in. "The Dark Lord has already alerted everyone. I'm surprised to find you still here. You'll never get out of here alive. What on earth are you doing?"

"I have to rescue Adelaide." Tamara explained. "You once told me what it's like to be a woman in this world. I have a chance to escape from that, but it's my fault that Adelaide is here. I can't condemn her to a life like that."

Narcissa's eyes clouded over with the regret of many wasted years. As she gazed at Tamara, Tamara understood exactly how she was feeling. Too many years she had been trapped in the dark world that both Voldedmort and loyalty to her husband had condemned her too. Tamara knew her feelings all too well.

When finally Narcissa responded, it was to raise her wand and perform the charm that would unlock the door to Adelaide's cell. Adelaide was sitting on the floor, holding her knees against her chest in a tight hug. From the look on her face she had clearly heard every word that Tamara had said. Tears began to stream down her face.

"Tamara I..." But words failed her.

"Its okay, Adelaide. We need to get out of here." Tamara held her hand out to help her old friend to her feet. Adelaide clutched Tamara's hand like a child clutching a favourite teddy bear.

"Come we have to hurry." Narcissa told them, glancing back down the corridor. "I think they're coming."

Tamara and Adelaide left the cell to join Snape and Narcissa. Narcissa led them away down a different corridor, evidently leading them through a secret escape route. Once they were free of the building they would be able to disapparate without fear of being caught.

Finally, Narcissa opened a door that led to the open air and the world outside the building. They spilled out through the door and began to make their way across the courtyard where they came to a stop.

"Do you think you can apparate?" Snape asked Tamara, knowing how weak her magic now was.

"I don't know, Severus. I don't think I have the strength. His spell didn't strip me of my magic entirely, but it did a lot of damage." She replied, mournfully.

"What's that?" Narcissa suddenly asked, pointing at Tamara's hand. When Tamara looked down, she saw that Dumbledore's ring was glowing and she laughed with joy and sudden understanding.

"It's going to fix me!" She exclaimed, but all of a sudden Death Eaters began to spill out of the door towards them. Tamara knew they wouldn't have time to wait until the ring had healed her and for Snape to side-along apparate both herself and Adelaide would likely drain him too much to be able to participate in the war that was now sure to follow.

"I'll hold them off." Narcissa told them, preparing to run toward the growing crowd.

"You don't have to do that, Narcissa." Tamara replied, knowing that the other woman would stand little chance against a whole host of Death Eaters.

"Severus once made the unbreakable vow to help Draco. I have never forgotten." She replied, and with that she hurried toward the crowd firing curses at them with her wand as she went.

Tamara finally allowed herself to give way to her exhaustion and fell to her knees, watching the glowing ring on her finger. The glow steadily became brighter and warmth began to steal over her, enveloping her whole body. Strength began to flow through her once more, and when the glow subsided she felt invigorated and more powerful than ever. Once more, Dumbledore had helped her from beyond the grave.

Turning her attention to the crowd to see what was happening, she saw Narcissa being hit from all sides by curses. Tamara ran to Narcissa's aid, followed by an annoyed Snape who sternly told Adelaide to wait where she was before joining Tamara.

They hadn't yet reached the crowd when Tamara saw Draco emerge, desperately trying to defend his mother. Narcissa's words sailed over the battle cries. "Go with Tamara, Draco! You don't belong here!" But then someone fired a green jet and in the moment that it took her to speak to Draco the jet hit her and she fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Draco cried out with anger and grief and turned on the assailant.

"Draco no!" Tamara found herself calling out. "Come with us!" Draco looked up, but the crowd was thick and getting away unscathed would be difficult. Tamara looked up at Snape who seemed to understand what she had in mind and together they ran forward, combining their magic once more to give Draco enough time to escape.

When the combined spell hit the crowd, everything seemed to slow down. Draco took the opportunity and ran toward them.

"Why did you do that? I'm going to kill him!" Draco fumed, his fists clenched in anger.

"There'll be other opportunities, but for now we need to get back to Hogwarts where we'll have back up. Please come with us Draco." Tamara pleaded. "Besides, there's someone waiting for you there." She added, thinking of Juliet and what she had confessed so long ago. At these words Draco paused, looking back at her with mingled surprise and hope.

Finally, he nodded. "It's what mother wanted." He said. With that, the three turned away from the crowd and the charm broke, returning everything to normal once more. Together, they ran toward Adelaide and all joining hands they disapparated together. Each was thankful for the luck that they'd had in escaping, and each felt relieved, but they all knew that it was only a taste of what was to come. The final inevitable battle was upon them, and none of them would forget the sacrifice that Narcissa Malfoy had made to save them.

* * *

**Author Note:** Well was that unexpected? Poor Narcissa. You know, I'm not sure that it's really appropriate to put "redemption" in the title of this chapter, seeing as she ended up dying but she did redeem herself in how she acted to help the others, didn't she and the title just sorta stuck with me so there ya go!


	35. The Storm Approaches

**Author Note:** Wow such wonderful reviews! Thank you all so much for taking the time to share a few words. It was an intense chapter to write and one that was important to me to get right, so I'm glad it was well received. Thanks to the following for reviews: Alishaoftroy, Dontgotaclue, 2lazy2login, Elza, Wendy Waddles (thanks Wendy for being a sounding board and checking this for me), Orangepigeon19, and Xeerie.

Alisha, Yes it was very sad for me to write too, but I think she had a noble end. 2lazy2login - lol at the name you used! But OMG the condoms! That's hysterical! Perhaps we should give them to Snape. He could do with a hint! LOL! Wendy Waddles - I was glad to get to the point where Sev no longer has to hide what side he's really on, and I imagine Draco will have a tough time of it dealing with everything , but Draco's a strong guy. I'm sure he'll be okay :) Orangepigeon19 - I'm glad you liked the chapter so much and yeah I couldn't leave Adelaide there, so I'm glad Tamara did that too. Xeerie - I know you probably won't read this yet as you are likely still at the beginning of the story, but I want to thank you for your honesty and your diplomacy in saying what you said. I hope you got the message I sent and that I will continue to see you around :)

Thanks also go to Sinistersocks16 and Ordermask for adding Fire and Ice to story alerts.

Well, I hope this lives up to expectations. We're getting close now! As usual, the next will be available Friday the 17th of December, but after that I may take a little break for Christmas, so there may or may not be a chapter Christmas weekend, but I guess that depends on what's happening at University and when they close their doors for Christmas. Anyway, see you all next week!

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**Chapter 35 – The Storm Approaches**

_~ History, despite its wrenching pain,_

_Cannot be unlived, and if faced with_

_Courage, need not be lived again ~_

_- Maya Angelou_

Elizabeth paced the flat, nervously. It seemed so empty without Tamara there. She knew her cousin had only left for the week to complete her exams but even so the silence seemed incredibly unnerving. It struck Elizabeth that this was an odd way to feel. She had lived alone before she met Tamara, so why was it so strange now? Perhaps it was simply that she had grown accustomed to Tamara's presence in the apartment, or perhaps it was getting to know her cousin after years of believing that she had no family left. Besides, Tamara would be back in the morning. She would have completed her final exam this afternoon and would be spending her last night in Hogsmeade. It would be good to have her back. Elizabeth had missed her.

Despite it all, though, she still couldn't seem to relax. In the pit of her stomach she knew Tamara wasn't coming home. She stopped pacing and reached out to pick up a photo-frame. In it was a photo of herself and Tamara that Allison had taken at Christmas. She smiled at the memory and remembered trying to convince Snape to join Tamara in a photograph as well but true to form he had staunchly refused. His reason had been understandable enough, though. If the photo fell into the wrong hands it could spell disaster for them both. Elizabeth made a mental note to try again when times were safer.

Suddenly something glinted against the glass in the frame. A kindly old face flashed in the light that bounced against the glass and then it was gone. For a split second it reminded her of Dumbledore. But it couldn't be... could it? Putting the frame down, she turned to the window and gazed outside. A storm was brewing. Thunderclouds rolled across the sky, ballooning with raindrops that threatened to spill over onto the earth below. Despite the fact that it was dusk, the world seemed to be darker than it should have been. And then it occurred to. It was happening. Somehow, somewhere, the battle had begun. Turning on her heel, she grabbed her car keys and strode out of the apartment.

* * *

Two hours later, Elizabeth swung her battered old Sierra Sapphire into the driveway of the Edgecombe household. The engine sputtered in protest at the speed it'd had to endure. As an older car, it might have been able to handle the journey but it was no longer capable of producing the kind of speeds that Elizabeth had just driven at. Elizabeth sighed, wearily. It had not been an enjoyable journey. Not only had she been pulled over by the police and given a fine for speeding, but the car had skidded on several patches of black ice and she had been very lucky not to have had a serious accident. When she thought about her reasons for making the journey, though, none of that mattered. It had been important simply to get here as quickly as she could. Elizabeth knew that she was only a muggle and that she didn't have an ounce of magical blood in her body, but her experiences with Tamara had taught her how important it was to trust her instincts. After all hadn't it been she, a muggle, who had found Dumbledore's ring back on that wind-battered Scottish island? And so it had been with that in mind that she had dashed halfway across the country to the home of Tamara's adopted parents.

She extracted herself from the car, not bothering to lock it, and hammered on the front door with her fist. It took a few moments, but finally the door opened and Elizabeth found a sleepy Allison looking back at her. The hour had grown quite late since Elizabeth had left London.

"Elizabeth?" Allison asked, trying to shake off the sleep-filled fog. "Do you realise what time it is?" But even as she spoke, Allison realised how uncharacteristic it was to find her adopted daughter's cousin on her doorstep at such an hour. "Oh my goodness, is it Tamara? Is she alright?" She asked, frantically, as John appeared behind her to find out what was going on.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I know it's late but can I come in for a few minutes?" Elizabeth asked. Allison nodded and stood aside to let Elizabeth in.

A few minutes later they were all settled in armchairs in the living room and Elizabeth had explained about the terrifying feelings that had come over her. Not surprisingly, they had thought it ridiculous.

"Elizabeth, you have no basis for these feelings. There's no evidence at all to support what you are saying and you want us to traipse halfway across the country with you? She's near Hogwarts for goodness sake. What place could be safer?" John told her firmly.

"I know, but..." Elizabeth began, helplessly.

"The whole place is protected by muggle repelling charms anyway. How do you think you will even find the place?" John continued. It was at this moment, seeing John Edgecombe's stubbornness that Elizabeth understood why Tamara's relationship with him had been strained over the years. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had fought against his wife to allow Tamara to stay with her all those months ago.

"So you won't come with me?" Elizabeth asked, defeated.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. That's my final word." John replied, his gaze stubborn and unwilling.

Elizabeth sighed. But while her plans had been dashed, her sense of urgency was not. It seemed all the more imperative to get to Tamara than it had been before she had left London. In an instant, she knew she would not be deterred. She would go on, even without the help of the Edgecombes. But before she could go anywhere, she needed to fix her car.

"Can you at least help me with my car? The journey here strained the engine." She said, determinedly.

"I'll fix your car." He agreed. "But then I have to ask you to be on your way."

With that, the three traipsed out of the house and to the driveway where Elizabeth's wounded old car was parked. Allison stood beside Elizabeth, saying nothing as John disappeared into the garage. He reappeared a few moments later carrying a tool box and a large cardboard box that was full to overflowing with various bits and pieces. He placed the two boxes on the ground as Elizabeth swung into the driver's seat to pop the bonnet and he got to work. Allison led Elizabeth back into the house to boil the kettle for a cup of tea while they waited and alone in the dark silent house they sipped at their steaming mugs.

"I understand your feelings." Allison said, after a time. Elizabeth looked up at her in surprise. "My husband... I suppose you could say he doesn't quite understand the wizarding world. He's been a distant figure in our lives. Perhaps there's something about it that scares him; that he'd rather avoid than face. Don't hold it against him. It's his way. He's always been like this. I don't expect him to change."

Elizabeth took in Allison's words without comment or interruption, except to reach out her hand to grasp Allison's. Allison squeezed her hand in response but did not smile. "Look after Tamara, will you? Make sure she's okay." Allison said, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I will, I promise." Elizabeth replied. With that, the two women returned to their silence as they continued to drink their tea.

After half an hour had passed, John came into the kitchen, rubbing his sweaty brow with an old rag. "Your car will get you home," he said, "but beyond that I suggest you invest in a new one."

Elizabeth offered her thanks, shared a knowing look with Allison, and left the two to return to bed as she took to the road once more and continued on her journey toward Hogwarts.

* * *

Snape, Tamara, Adelaide and Draco appeared in the high street of Hogsmeade with the inexplicable 'pop' that was characteristic of apparation. Adelaide dropped to her knees, struggling to hold herself upright. It was clear that she had not been well nourished while being detained by Voldemort, and her health had been badly neglected. Tamara bent down and brushed her hair from her forehead and all of a sudden a rush of people flew out of the Hog's Head pub toward them. It was Harry, Ron and Hermione. Tamara wondered how on earth they had got out of Hogwarts without asking a staff member to open the front gates, but Harry spoke first.

"What's he doing here?" He spat, pointing at Snape.

"I told you, he's working for us!" Tamara shot back.

"You're mad! He's a murderer!" Harry replied, but it was Adelaide who spoke next.

"She's right, Harry. He risked a lot to help her rescue me." She said, speaking in a small voice that seemed to pierce the darkened atmosphere.

"And me." Draco cut in. "If it weren't for Snape I wouldn't have stood a chance against the Death Eaters. I was completely surrounded. I owe him my life."

No-one replied. The silence that descended over everyone was thick with tension as they all regarded one another with mistrust and apprehension. Finally, Hermione gave Harry an apologetic look and walked toward Tamara and the others. Ron, surprisingly, followed and took Hermione's hand in his own.

"I'm sorry, mate." Ron told Harry.

"I don't understand any of you. How can you take sides with him? He works for Voldemort!" Harry said, angry and betrayed.

"Harry, he defied Voldemort. He fought against Voldemort... for me. The death eaters are after us because of it. Voldemort wants us both dead and it won't be long before he's here to do it. He knows about the horcruxes and he thinks I'm helping you. It won't be long before he brings his death eaters here to finish us all and take over. We need to be ready. We need to go back to Hogwarts to warn everyone." Tamara told him, her eyes blazing. "He's my biological Father." She continued on, receiving looks of shock from everyone except Snape. "He's my Father and he still wanted to use me for his own ends. He knows nothing about loyalty, love, or the greater good. We need to prove that we're not like him. We need to work together, united, if we want any chance of destroying him."

Again, not a word was said as they all waited for Harry's response. To their surprise, Snape suddenly stepped forward and held his hand out to Harry. A long moment passed, and eventually Harry stepped forward to accept Snape's hand and shook it grudgingly.

"This doesn't mean I like you." Harry told him, defiantly, as he withdrew his hand again. Snape merely nodded.

"How did you get out of Hogwarts?" Tamara asked Hermione, changing the subject.

"There's a secret passage-way hidden by a portrait in the Hog's Head. It leads to the room of requirement in the castle. Tamara faintly recognised the term from something she had read in Hogwarts: A History but it had been so long ago that she hardly remembered. Nonetheless, she nodded in understanding.

"Can we use that passage-way now?" Tamara asked. "We need to raise the alarm and we need to get Adelaide to Madame Pomfrey."

Hermione nodded and led the way into the Hog's Head. The barman was waiting for them, sitting at one of the tables with an irritated expression on his face. "This is Aberforth Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore's brother, yes." She explained, answering their inevitable questions before they had a chance to ask. "He's agreed to help us." On cue Aberforth, who really did look startlingly like his brother, stood up and led them upstairs to where a large portrait featuring a young teenage girl adorned one of the walls. The portrait swung open at their arrival, revealing a long dark corridor. Harry lost no time and went straight through, lighting the tip of his wand with a quick "lumos". Hermione and Ron followed, along with Draco who was supporting Adelaide. Snape and Tamara exchanged looks. He looked grim but if he was tired he didn't show it. He reached out to give Tamara's hand a quick squeeze before dropping it again and placing a hand on the small of her back directed her into the small dark corridor.

The walk to Hogwarts in that small dark place seemed endless and set Tamara's nerves on edge. Once or twice Snape reached out to take her hand, hidden by the cover of the darkness. She wished she could have kept his hand in hers until they reached the other end but despite the lack of light Snape opted for discretion and would retract his hand after a minute or so.

The journey was spent in silence, apart from the couple of times that Hermione called out "mind your heads here" or "not long now", trying to keep their spirits up with her encouraging tone. Tamara was impressed by this. They were all tired and worried and it was hard to stay positive. Finally, the darkness came to an end and light streamed into the corridor as Harry opened the doorway at the other end. Momentarily blinded by the sudden influx of light, Tamara raised her hand to shield her eyes. When they emerged, they found themselves in a room that was crowded with students who all stared at the strange group that accompanied Harry, Hermione and Ron. With them was Juliet Malone who gave a little gasp and ran forward at the sight of a very surprised Draco to pull him into a tight embrace. Tamara smiled, glad to see the pair reunited at last.

Meanwhile, Snape grabbed Harry by the arm. "What are they doing here?" He hissed.

Harry yanked his arm free. "It's the DA. They're prepared to fight." He responded, defiantly and determinedly.

"What's going on?" Tamara asked Snape, softly, stepping forward.

"Dumbledore's Army". Snape replied, tersely. "Potter, I hope for their sakes they know what to expect. This is not child's play. The Dark Lord will drive the entire weight of his army against Hogwarts."

"I know." Harry replied. "They're prepared." If he had spoken in this tone to Snape in class, there would have been no doubt that he would have been expelled, but in the gravity of the situation they both seemed to know what was more important. At that moment, Jez and Thalia pushed their way forward. Tamara was surprised to see them there, but drew her friends into a hug nonetheless.

"What can we do?" Jez asked, looking from Tamara to Snape and back again. If any other member of the DA had doubts as to where Snape's true loyalties lay, Jez and Thalia's apparent trust of him sent the gathered crowd into a further frenzy of confusion now. Immediately they looked to Harry for explanation. Harry, however, said nothing and merely watched the exchange between Tamara and her friends.

"We need to alert McGonagall and get Adelaide to Madame Pomfrey." Tamara replied, her voice laced with urgency. "Harry, have you done what you need to do?" Tamara, of course, was referring to the horcruxes, though she couldn't say as much in front of everyone else.

"Yes. All that's left to do is face him." Harry replied, strength and determination blazing in his eyes.

"Right, well Thalia and I can take you through the castle while Harry gets everyone ready here." Jez replied, with confidence.

"Okay. Harry, I think Draco should stay with you. Some of you will need to help evacuate the other students and have the rest ready in the Great Hall in half an hour." Tamara told him and without further ado she, Jez, Thalia, Snape and Adelaide hurried into the castle, Adelaide supported by her friends.

Their hearts pounding in their chests at the magnitude of what was about to take place that night, they avoided the main traffic areas of the castle and hurried through the quieter undisturbed pathways. Taking the back way to avoid being detected until they had spoken to McGonagall, however, meant that their path wasn't as direct as they would like. For the most part, though, they moved quickly, only stopping when Adelaide's lack of strength sent her tumbling to the ground. With no-one to see but Tamara and her friends, Snape scooped Adelaide up and carried her the rest of the way. At this point, Adelaide was becoming delirious and knew nothing of what was happening. She would need sustenance as soon as they got her to the hospital wing.

When they arrived at the hospital wing Madame Pomfrey rushed out in her nightgown to see what was happening and gasped in shock at the sight of Snape. Tamara hurried forward to explain.

"Please Madame Pomfrey, there's nothing to be afraid of. Professor Snape has been working as a double agent and helped me rescue Adelaide from the Death Eaters. She's very weak. Can you help her?" Tamara pleaded.

Madame Pomfrey sighed with the same tone that Snape had spoken in when he had chosen to risk their capture to save Adelaide and directed them to the nearest empty bed. Snape placed Adelaide on the bed and stood back as Madame Pomfrey began to fuss over her.

"Join us in the Great Hall as soon as you can. Voldemort is on his way to storm the castle and I daresay we'll need you again before the night is out." Tamara told the older witch. The colour drained from Madame Pomfrey's face but she nodded and immediately turned her attention back to Adelaide.

Leaving Adelaide in Madame Pomfrey's care, they dashed out of the hospital wing and headed straight toward the Headmistress's office. Again, the gargoyle jumped aside sensing their urgency and to their relief McGonagall was sitting at her desk, sorting through an enormous stack of paperwork for the education department at the Ministry. At the sight of Snape she immediately jumped to her feet and drew her wand, firing hexes that Snape was able to deflect.

"Professor please, I need you to listen to me. Remember what I told you at the beginning of the week? It's happening now. Snape's on our side..." Tamara began.

"I should kill you after what you did!" McGonagall cut in, shouting at Snape and raising her wand to cast another hex that Snape again deflected, though not before it managed to graze his elbow, leaving a singed gash in his robes.

"Put your wand down, you stupid woman! If I were working for Voldemort, I would have killed you by now!" Snape retorted.

"Enough!" Boomed a powerful and familiar voice from behind McGonagall's desk. Everyone in the room froze. It was Dumbledore's voice. A moment later, Tamara realised that it was coming from one of the portraits. Dumbledore was back in his frame tonight.

"Enough!" Dumbledore repeated. "Minerva, you remember what I told you. I will not tell you again. Severus, I thought you might have learnt a thing or two from Tamara about diplomacy." Both swapped grimaces at these words but lowered their wands.

"Albus, I cannot fathom why you would forgive him after what he did to you." McGonagall hissed in a low voice.

"There is nothing to forgive. He ended my life because I asked him to." Dumbledore replied, shortly.

McGonagall stopped short and stared at Snape. Suddenly, the tension disappeared from Snape's face and he dropped his head, clearly unable to look at Dumbledore's portrait. For the first time, Tamara could see just how much turmoil Snape felt at what he had been asked to do.

"Don't carry the weight of regrets, Severus. You gave me the gift of a dignified death. I never truly thanked you for it." Dumbledore told him, his voice softening with emotion and finally McGonagall truly understood and accepted what Snape's position had entailed.

"What can I do?" She asked Snape in a shaky, yet strangely awed voice.

"Evacuate the students, all those who aren't of age, and prepare the Order and the Staff. The Dark Lord is coming. This will be the final stand. We have one chance to defeat him and that chance is now." Snape told her. Grimly, McGonagall nodded in understanding.

"Has Harry completed his task? Is everything ready?" Dumbledore cut in, addressing Tamara.

Tamara nodded, understanding what he meant. "It's done." She replied. "I even found this." And with that she held up her hand, flashing the ring that he had hidden so many years ago. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling at the memory.

"If I may make a suggestion, you will need people on the front line waiting in the castle grounds. The castle's protections are not as strong as they were when I was alive. Having people in the grounds ready to fight back will buy you a little time. And don't forget, when Voldemort makes his appearance it will be you Tamara and Severus, together with Harry, united in love and friendship, who will have the chance to conquer him. You will of course remember my lesson on this subject; the power of love. Voldemort knows nothing of love and so it is this that will be his downfall." Dumbledore explained.

Tamara immediately dropped her eyes to the floor. Dumbledore was right. Voldemort knew nothing of love or loyalty and it still hurt to think of how she had been betrayed by him, her father. McGonagall, however, looked at Tamara and Snape with surprise, evidently trying to determine if her interpretation of Dumbledore's words had been correct. Because if she was right, then it meant that they were sharing a romantic relationship.

Not having the time to lose on thinking about this subject, however, she followed Tamara and the others out of the office, readying herself for what needed to be done.


	36. The Final Battle

**Author Note:** Woops I almost forgot to post this! Time is just running away from me today, as I'm sure you all understand being this time of year. Thanks first of all to Wendy Waddles for her gracious help with this chapter and for reviewing the last along with Dontgotaclue88 and Elza. Elza, yeah I know! We can dream though, can't we!

Hopefully there will be another chapter next week as promised. I'm hoping to take some time off so I should have time, so see you all on the 24th!

* * *

**Chapter 36 – The Final Battle**

The castle was in a flurry. Students hurried to the room of requirement led by the heads of houses. Some of the younger students were excited at what they perceived to be a great adventure but most were panicked, though to their credit they all remained as orderly as possible given their fears. Meanwhile, Harry and Dumbledore's Army, along with the Order of the Phoenix (most of whom Tamara didn't recognise, though Harry and the others did) had joined Tamara in the Great Hall to prepare for the battle. An argument had broken out over who was to defend the outermost bounds of the castle. Snape, who was still feeling an inferno of anger at how Voldemort had used Tamara, wanted to lead the charge. Tamara fought back and told him that he had to stay put. He would be needed when Voldemort made his appearance. To their surprise, Harry agreed with Tamara, finally accepting the role that the three of them would have to play before the night was out.

Finally, it was agreed that Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt would head the defences of the castle grounds. They would be the ones to fight on the front line, leading several other brave members of the Order. They all exchanged handshakes and wishes of good luck before the chosen fighters solemnly left to take up their posts in the grounds. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas volunteered to man the astronomy tower where they would have the best vantage point, so as to inform the others when Voldemort's army approached. To occupy themselves, Tamara, Jez and Thalia set about clearing the Great Hall of the house tables. Together they raised their wands and on command, Hufflepuff's table rose into the air and sailed backwards, coming to rest against the nearest wall where it gently came to land. They repeated this action with the other house tables and the high table until finally the Great Hall was cleared.

When the teachers and those students who were of age joined them, having finished sending all of the underage students through the room of requirement to be evacuated, the next decision made was who was to be stationed in the nearby entrance corridors. McGonagall volunteered herself and would not be deterred, so it was she who led the castle's second line of defensive forces. Those who remained in the Great Hall stood in defensive positions with their wands drawn and ready. No-one spoke and the atmosphere pulsated with anticipation. Then, all of a sudden, a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead and the very walls shook as if a sudden explosion had rocked the castle. Rain began to drum on the roof, wind howling at the windows. A great storm was upon them and it brought with it the final battle, for at that very moment an owl patronus flew into the room. It opened its beak and spoke in Dean's voice; "They're here. My god, I've never seen anything like it!"

Indeed, Dean was right. It was as though the very bowels of hell had spat forth its most heinous creatures, bolstered with a vast army of masked Death Eaters, though Voldemort as yet was nowhere to be found. Tamara bit back a fierce urge to dash into the Entrance Hall to find out what was happening and gripped her wand so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her amulet glowed lightly at her neck as though it too were preparing for the battle.

Those on the front line fought valiantly, but they were no match for Voldemort's vast forces. Hogwarts was not a place well staffed for battle and before long those members of the Order who were stationed outside began to retreat into the castle, sodden with rain and bearing wounds indicative of war. Rumours began to reach the crowd gathered in the Great Hall that one of the Order had been killed, and with fear they all wondered who it might be, if it were true. With the outer defences of the castle now breached, and the last of the protective charms broken, it didn't take long before Death Eaters began to stream into the castle and they all found themselves fighting for their lives.

* * *

Elizabeth pulled the car to a stop, having no idea where she was. She had driven northward, knowing instinctively that it was the direction she was supposed to be going in. Where she had ended up, however, was amongst a vast stretch of mist covered moors. The road had ended and in front of her a stretch of mountains loomed. To add insult to injury, it had also begun to rain. Heavy drops pelted the windows and high winds rocked the old car. Frustrated, she tried to peer through the rain, trying to spot anything that might point her in the right direction. But the rain was pouring down in thick sheets now, making it doubly impossible to see anything given that it was also pitch dark.

Desperate and at a loss for what to do she threw out silent pleas for help. As she sat there, lost in the chaos that was her thoughts, she began to feel a strange pull as though someone invisible were trying to lead her somewhere. Once again she cast her eyes over her immediate surroundings, trying to see through the rain, but nothing stood out in the darkness. After another moment had passed, the feeling came over her again and this time she saw a chink of light glinting on the horizon. Elizabeth stared at it, trying to make out what it was. Finally, she began to make out the outline of a shape and that the shape formed a human being. This person, however, was entirely translucent and light played about its edges. With a startling revelation, she realised that it was the same person that she had seen reflected in the glass of the photo frame back in her apartment. It was Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's spirit beckoned to her to follow and so she did, the strange compulsion urging her out of the car. Battling the raging storm, she found herself being led through a tiny mountain pass that was illuminated only by Dumbledore's faint glow. For too long it seemed to her that she clambered through that narrow gap in the mountains, led by Dumbledore who remained a few steps ahead of her at all times so that she could never quite reach him. Finally, the mountain pass came to an end and a soaked Elizabeth could see a vast stretch of grass in front of her, atop which was the mouldering old ruins of a stone building which had once stood there. The ruin shimmered with a sudden explosion of blue light and then it changed before her eyes. Awed, she watched as the ruins transformed into huge and magnificent castle, its spires and turrets piercing the sky in a display of magnanimity.

At that moment, she realised that Dumbledore had disappeared and she knew she would have to go on toward the castle alone. Quietly, she whispered words of thanks and pressed on toward her destination, amazed that she had managed to get this far. She pressed on, and the closer she became to the castle, the worse the storm seemed to get. Finally, bent forward against the wind and rain, she found a large iron wrought fence looming up before her. The fence, however, leant backwards in places, and beyond it the grounds looked unkempt as though they had been carelessly trampled. Elizabeth looked up the hill beyond the fence at the castle and could see lights in some of the windows, and the unmistakeable sounds of battle pierced the storm. Feeling a sudden terror, she followed the fence until she found the front gates. The gates had been torn off their hinges and lay lifelessly on the ground in front of her. Stepping over them, she entered the grounds of Hogwarts and hurried up the hill toward the castle's front doors, which stood open. Apprehensively, she stepped through into a large high-ceilinged hallway. Immediately, it was clear where the battle was taking place. God-awful cries and shouts came pouring from a large room that seemed to branch off the entrance hall. Heading toward it, she found herself entering a hall that was larger than anything she had ever seen before, and witness to the battle on which the future of the wizarding world depended.

Immediately in front of her, she saw a masked man cast a hex on another man who promptly fell to the ground with a large gash in his side that began pouring blood. The masked man jumped over his fallen victim and disappeared into the crowd. Elizabeth's medical training immediately took precedence over her fear and she dropped to her knees beside the man. Removing her jacket and wringing as much rain water out of it as she could, she reached forward and pressed it to the wound, applying pressure in an attempt to slow the flow of blood. At that moment, a woman dressed in a matron's uniform appeared in front of her. The injured man spluttered and convulsed and his body went limp, his eyes fluttering closed. He had died.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" The matron asked her in a demanding voice, though she dropped to her knees beside Elizabeth to inspect the fallen man.

"I'm looking for Tamara Edgecombe." Elizabeth replied.

"You and the rest of the death eaters." The matron replied, more to herself than Elizabeth. "Who are you? I haven't seen you before." The matron could see the resemblance between Tamara and this woman, though she didn't remember ever seeing such a woman pass through the school as a student.

"I'm Tamara's cousin, Elizabeth." Elizabeth explained.

"A muggle?" The matron asked, with suspicion in her voice as she thought back on Tamara's medical file with the stated "muggle born" written in it. Elizabeth nodded. "Impossible." The matron whispered to herself in shock, though she chose not to waste her precious minutes pursuing that conversation. "If you are a muggle, as you say, then there is little you can do to help us and we cannot spare anyone to protect you. You would do well to leave and get as far away as you can."

"I'm a nurse. I can tend to the wounded. I want to help." Elizabeth pleaded. The matron stared at her for a moment as though she thought Elizabeth was crazy but finally she nodded and pulling Elizabeth to her feet she began to lead her through the crowd, ducking and dodging hexes as they went.

"I've set up a make-shift infirmary in a little room towards the back of the hall. I want you to tend to the people I bring in and administer the potions I tell you to administer." The matron paused and glanced at Elizabeth. "You can call me Madame Pomfrey."

At that moment, a cry beside them pierced the atmosphere. Elizabeth looked in shock as Tamara stumbled with the pain of a broken leg. Madame Pomfrey cast a hex into the crowd and swooped down on Tamara. With one great sweeping motion, she waved her wand across Tamara's leg, spoke a word that Elizabeth didn't know and immediately the broken bone was healed. Tamara jumped to her feet again, battle-weary but driven by a rush of adrenaline that kept her moving. Tamara stared dumbly at Elizabeth for a moment, not understanding how her cousin had suddenly appeared in the midst of the battle. Despite her wonderment, Tamara didn't stop to ask for an explanation. Instead, she tore at her hand and slid off Dumbledore's ring. She pressed it into Elizabeth's palm, instructing her to wear it and that it would protect her and then Tamara was gone, disappearing to rejoin the battle again.

While Elizabeth retreated into the relative safety of the makeshift infirmary, where Madame Pomfrey gave her brief instructions before disappearing into the battle once more, Tamara lost herself in the battle again. In the chaos, she had become separated from Snape and couldn't see Harry either. She would need them both with her when Voldemort made his appearance, and so she scanned the crowd as best she could while trying to fend off death eater attacks. She could see neither of them anywhere.

* * *

They were losing the battle. No matter how courageously they fought, they knew they just didn't have the numbers to match Voldemort's army. Hogwart's was falling. The only hope now lay in the final showdown with Voldemort himself. But where was he?

Elizabeth gently brushed closed the eyes of one of their fallen comrades, sadness washing over her at having to do so. True, she and Madame Pomfrey had also saved many lives working together that night, but it didn't make the losses any easier. Looking up, she caught Tamara's gaze. Her cousin was more than a little worse for wear but on she fought, not giving up hope though her heart must have been heavy, and once more Tamara disappeared into the crowd.

As Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet to return to the make-shift infirmary, she thought back on that night's events. Though the battle had been unlike anything she had ever experienced, it hadn't been what had scared her. What scared her the most was the thought of what might come to pass should they lose the battle. Having said that, however, there was one thing that scared her above all; the prospect of losing the people she cared for most of all. It would be devastating if she lost Tamara, and Snape too felt almost like a part of the family now.

Watching him duel, when he had passed her by, she marvelled at how skilled he seemed to be, but suddenly fear shot through her at the sight of one of the masked men aiming a wand at his back. She called out and he managed to escape the brunt of the spell although he still sustained serious injuries.

When his assailants turned their attentions toward other victims, she rushed toward him. The worst of his injuries seemed to be a large gash close to the base of his spine. She ordered him to lift his shirt so that she could attend to it and drew a small bottle out of her pocket. The bottle contained the closest alternative to antiseptic lotion as Madame Pomfrey had in her store of wizarding healing supplies. Elizabeth poured some of the lotion on a cloth and smeared it over the wound. Immediately, the lotion began to glow and then disappeared, leaving the edges of the wound neat and easier to attend to. This done, she swapped the bottle of lotion for a small container of cream. She applied some of the cream to the wound and watched as it slowly began to draw the edges of the wound closer together. Without a wand to speed it along, she had no choice but to let the cream knit the edges of the wound back together unaided. It was a much longer process, but at least it was a start and it meant that Snape was no longer in danger from his injuries.

Pulling his shirt back down over his wounds, she turned to face him. "Please be careful, Severus." She admonished, mother-like. "You mean everything to Tamara... and the family wouldn't be the same without you."

He looked back at her in surprise and awe at the second mention that he was now considered to be a part of their family, and slowly nodded. "I promise I'll be careful." He told her, before they both went their separate ways once more; she to finish her journey back toward the make-shift infirmary and he to return to the battle.

* * *

The Death Eater stumbled backwards at the force of Tamara's hex and fell onto the floor unconscious. After taking a deep breath, she felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled around in shock with her wand drawn. To her relief, it was Snape. He brushed a trickle of blood from her brow and cupped her face in his hands.

"Tamara, have you seen Harry? We need to stay together." He told her in a hurried voice. But Tamara wasn't given a chance to reply. A familiar cold mirthless voice spoke from behind them.

"I might have known." Voldemort said, appearing in the doorway and speaking over the crowd when he saw Snape with Tamara. At his words everyone in the Great Hall froze and turned to stare at him in horror. The final moment had come at last. "So this is why you betrayed me, Severus. You bedded that poor excuse for a witch."

Tamara felt as though her heart had begun to melt inside her chest. Now everyone in the Hall knew one of her most closely guarded secrets. It was not how she would have had them find out. Snape, however, did not take kindly to Voldemort's words and the false claim that he had made love to Tamara. He raised his wand and fired the avada kedavra before another word could be spoken. Voldemort, however, lazily raised his wand in front of him and the curse fizzled to nothingness in the air in front of him as he let out a chilling laugh.

"You were never my master." Snape told Voldemort, his wand still raised. Voldemort responded with a curse of his own, not aimed to kill but to injure. Voldemort liked to make examples of his victims. It wasn't his style to provide quick endings. Tamara acted without delay and used her amulet to throw a shield between Voldemort, Snape and herself. Like Snape's curse had done, Voldemort's curse fizzled into nothingness as soon as it hit the shield.

"Where is Harry Potter?" Voldemort suddenly called out to the crowd, losing patience. "There are three who will die tonight and I want them before me together. Give him up or I will kill each and every one of you and tear this castle apart."

"There'll be no need for that." Harry's voice suddenly responded. "I'm here." He emerged from the crowd and took his place beside Tamara and Snape. "We're not afraid of you. You stand before us nothing more than a mortal man. Your horcruxes are gone. We stand before you, united in friendship, trust and love. You cannot harm us and you will meet your end in us." Harry's words were strong, his voice confident. It was clear that this day had been a long time coming for him, longer even than it was for Tamara. Something flickered in Voldemort's eyes as Harry spoke. It was clear that he was familiar with the magic Harry referred to, but in his true fashion he quickly brushed it aside.

"You speak strongly, but you will be no match for me." Voldemort responded. With that, he raised his wand to perform the killing curse. Harry raised his own wand in response and began to weave his own magic. Snape aimed his wand and joined his magic with Harry's. Together, they combined to form a single jet of silver light that met Voldemort's curse and held it at bay. Voldemort began to struggle under the weight, though it wasn't yet enough to repel him.

Tamara, however, was filled with a mix of emotions. Despite the evil inherent in Voldemort's nature and deeds, and despite his betrayal, he was still her Father. He was the biological link to her true identity and the fact she felt pain over his betrayal meant that she still cared about that link. Knowing this, could she really have a hand in killing him?

"Tamara, come on!" Snape called to her. "We need you! Do it now!"

Once more, Voldemort laughed. "She will never kill me." He said. "You are just like me, Tamara. Your blood is my blood."

No-one in the Great Hall who had heard those words uttered ever found out what Voldemort really meant, but it struck at Tamara's core keenly and painfully. Though he was her Father, and her need for family was strong, the accusation that she was just like him was more painful still.

"I am not like you." Tamara replied, her voice shaking. And though tears began to glisten in her eyes, she raised her wand to join her magic with Snape and Harry's. Immediately, the silver jet turned gold. Destroying Voldemort's spell, the gold jet shot forward and hit Voldemort squarely in the chest. A huge blast rocked the room as Voldemort's body was obliberated.

At first, none of the crowd could quite believe what had happened, but after a moment of dumbfounded Tamara gasped audibly. Where the physical body of Voldemort had once stood, there was now a shimmering green mist lingering in the air. Only, it wasn't quite mist; it retained loose semblance of a shape and it pulsated eerily as it made its way toward her.

Tamara knew at once that this was what remained of Voldemort's vast powers and that now he was dead she was being given an opportunity to claim those powers for herself. Tamara found the offer unbelievably tempting. With his power she could ensure that no other forces of evil arose to threaten the wizarding world, and she could ensure that no-one would betray her again. But another voice nagged at her, reminding her of a famous quote; "absolute power corrupts absolutely". It would begin with the smallest things, little things she could do to serve her whims and desires but the little things would soon turn into bigger things and it wouldn't be long before the power corrupted her.

Knowing what she had to do, and though forgoing such power was incredibly difficult, Tamara stepped backward away from the lingering mass of power that hung tantalisingly in the air in front of her. The power sensed the decision she had made and in the face of its rejection it immediately changed. The shimmering green disappeared and left behind an oily shadowy monster. The foul creature opened what looked to be a mouth, let out a shrill piercing scream and charged at her.

Horrified, Tamara raised her wand and cried out in protest. The creature knocked her backward and vanished all at once, Snape and Harry having reacted together in their attempt to help Tamara.

After what they had accomplished together through being united by trust and friendship, a bond had been forged between all three of them. And so, needing to protect one of their own, they had both raised their wands in Tamara's defence and once more, the extraordinary magic that their union had invoked was raised again and the foul creature fell to dust at their feet.

After Voldemort's body had been obliberated, most of the people in the crowd hadn't really understood what had happened next. To their minds it was, at last, all over and in their disbelief that was all that their minds processed. The death eaters, having witnessed their master fall, turned and fled from the Great Hall, all knowing what the penalty would be for serving Voldemort and that without him to protect them there would be nothing to stop justice being served against every single one of them. Silent shock and awe filled those who remained. In their darkest hour, and beyond all hope, three courageous souls had united to save the day. Suddenly, a loud cheer broke the silence and all at once the room that had held so much carnage was now filled with celebration.

But amidst the wildly celebrating crowd, Harry and Snape remained silent. Tamara had not recovered from the fall induced by the shadow creature. Snape knelt down beside her and cradled her head in his lap as he began stroking her hair. She looked as though she might have simply been asleep, but the reality was so much worse. Molly Weasley, who stood nearby, broke away from a tight hug with her husband, Arthur, when she noticed the sad scene. Her joy-filled expression melted from her face and she clutched at Arthur's shoulder, imploring him to find Madame Pomfrey.

* * *

**Author Note:** *Gasp* Does this mean what we think it means? Never fear, things won't be quite what you're expecting. I did make a promise about a happy ending didn't I?

I need to make a couple more brief credits before I sign off. Thanks to Wendy Waddles for helping me brainstorm ideas for Elizabeth's role in this chapter and what happened to Voldemort's powers after he died. For this, I also took inspiration from the first book in Ursula Leguin's _Earthsea_ series.


	37. Aftermath, Part 1

**Author Note:** Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter and added the story to favourites lists etc. You know who you are. Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry today. I almost didn't get this finished! No promises for next week I'm afraid. Not sure what sort of time I'll have. There will definitely be a chapter the week after next though, so stay tuned!

Sorry about the awful formatting on the poem by the way. Goodness knows why the site does that. Have a wonderful christmas/holiday everyone, whatever your beliefs. Wishing you all the best!

**Chapter 37 - Aftermath**

_Love arrives and in_

_its train come ecstasies  
old memories of pleasure  
ancient histori__es of pain.  
Yet if we are bold, love strikes _

_away the chains of fear  
from our souls._

We are weaned from our

_timidity in the flush of love's _

_light__ we dare be brave  
And suddenly we see  
that love costs all we _

_are__ and will ever be.  
Yet it is only love  
which sets us free ~_

_- __Maya Angelou_

Molly stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder before turning towards Snape. "Is there anything I can do?" She began to ask, when suddenly a woman rushed past her and threw herself to her knees beside Snape and Tamara. It was Elizabeth. Her hand shaking, Elizabeth reached forward and pressed a finger on Tamara's neck. After a long tense moment, she sighed in relief.

"She's alive but we need to get her to the hospital wing as soon as possible." Elizabeth said, not taking her eyes away from Tamara. Wordlessly, Snape nodded and rose to his feet with Tamara's apparent lifeless form in his arms. Elizabeth darted into the crowd and re-emerged moments later with Madame Pomfrey in tow who led the way out of the hall and up a winding staircase that led to the hospital wing.

Words seemed to be beyond Snape now as he gently laid Tamara down onto one of the hospital beds. He sat beside her, perched on the edge of the bed and watching her fixedly. Madame Pomfrey, however, demanded both he and Harry take beds too. They were both exhausted, she argued, and had taken on unknown tolls in the fight against Voldemort. They were to rest and stay in the hospital wing under observation until Madame Pomfrey was satisfied that they too were in full health. Harry didn't argue. He was exhausted and it meant having some solitude to process what had taken place. Snape, however, was reluctant to move away from Tamara but as being in the hospital wing under observation meant that he was at least permitted to stay close to her, he eventually consented. No sooner had he taken his place on the hospital bed Madame Pomfrey was gesturing to, however, than he fell asleep, overwhelmed by exhaustion

* * *

When Snape finally awoke it was still dark. The hospital wing was lit with candles and the moon shone in the through the windows. His head pounded. The battle had taken its toll on him. Every muscle aching, he looked about the room. Tamara remained unconscious in her bed, and Elizabeth was slumped in the chair beside her, fast asleep. Across the room was Harry. Harry was awake and sat up in his bed, propped up with pillows, watching Snape with an uncomfortable expression on his face. Snape pondered this for a moment, before turning away to look at Tamara once more.

"She'll be okay." Harry suddenly said, his voice piercing the silence with a strange mixture of uncertainty and knowing. Snape turned back to him and stared with the same intense expression that he sometimes used in classes; it was the expression that had unnerved many a student over the years.

Snape said nothing, but continued to stare inscrutably and for a moment Harry wondered whether he had done the right thing in speaking and braced himself for the less than diplomatic "mind your own business" response that he had come to expect from Snape. To his surprise it didn't come.

"She is strong and she is in capable hands." Snape eventually replied. Harry nodded cordially as silence swept over the room once more, wondering whether to press the matter and say something else.

"Look, I know it must have taken a lot of courage to come back here and do what you did to help us." He began, feeling more than a little awkward. "I'm sorry I called you a coward the night Dumbledore died."

"Is that so?" Snape replied in a quiet and emotionless voice.

Snape's response took Harry aback and for a moment he had no idea what to say. When he did speak, he decided to continue on the apologetic vein in the hopes that it might ease the tension. "I should have listened to Dumbledore. I should have known that there was a reason for the things he said."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he took in Harry's words. "What do you hope to achieve by rehashing this? Do you seek sympathy? Or perhaps you hope to reinforce your hero status by gaining my favour." A pang of regret immediately shot through him as he realised that he didn't entirely believe what he had just said. The last 24 hours had shown Harry to be a very different person than his father had been and Harry had managed to overcome his old grudge and mistrust. So why couldn't he? He reasoned that he was simply tired. The hour was late, the battle had left him weary, and he was worried about Tamara. Those were the things that fuelled his bitter words, he told himself. But deep down inside he knew a different truth lurked.

Harry, however, didn't take kindly to this. "After all we've just been through, you still think that? I've had enough, Snape! I trusted you!" His voice was quiet, but its power shook the room.

"You hardly helped, Potter, behaving like a self-absorbed brat." Snape snapped back. All went silent as the two glared at one another. Finally, it was Snape who made the next move. His expression softened as he released the tension he knew was unnecessary given what they had been through together. Exhaustion threatened to overcome him once more, but he fought it and pressed on to say what he knew he had to say, despite his pride screaming at him not to do so.

"I was wrong to accuse you of being like your father." Snape began. "You struggled with the same feelings he had, but you managed to overcome them."

Harry stared at Snape in shock as though his bitter old potions master had suddenly sprouted another head. Had Tamara really changed him that much? "I don't know what to say." Harry said, barely audibly. Snape didn't reply but turned his gaze to Tamara once more. Pulling back the bed sheets, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and made his way toward the unconscious Tamara. He placed his hands on the edge of her bed for a time, simply watching her and marvelling at how strangely peaceful she seemed to look.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the silence once more. Snape nodded imperceptibly but didn't look away from Tamara. "You saved my life in my first year here. I never understood why."

At that, Snape looked away from Tamara and back to Harry, sporting a strange unfathomable expression. Slowly, he moved away from Tamara's bed and took the visitor's chair that sat beside Harry's bed, dropping into it with a sigh. "Your Mother was my best friend... my only friend. She would never have forgiven me if I had allowed her son to come to harm."

Harry could hardly contain his shock at this new revelation and all at once he finally began to understand the enigma that was Snape. "Tell me about her." Harry said, a tear glistening in his eye. And with that, Snape began the story that finally allowed him to paint a real picture in his mind of what his Mother had really been like.

* * *

Everything was a blur of lights and colour as Tamara opened her eyes. She strained to focus, pressing a hand to her pounding head and every muscle in her body ached. Slowly, her eyes became to form an out-of-focus picture of the hospital wing. Wondering how she had ended up here, her fuzzy vision centred on Snape who sat across the room speaking to Harry, who listened earnestly. Tamara never found out what Snape said to Harry that night, but whatever it was she understood that it was a significant factor in them finally overcoming the grudge that had existed between them for so many years.

Pain seared through her body as she tried to shift in the bed and she groaned, audibly. Immediately, Snape had dashed across the room and had taken both of her hands in his. As he sat before her, on the edge of her bed, her vision finally came into focus and the look on his face told her just how worried he had been about her. "I'm okay Severus." She told him, her voice gravelly. Across the room, Harry smiled to himself as Snape leaned forward to kiss her forehead. Madame Pomfrey suddenly appeared in the doorway, wondering what the commotion was. Upon seeing the awakened Tamara, she immediately disappeared into her office and reappeared with a brass goblet that appeared to smoke.

"Drink this." Madame Pomfrey insisted. "It will help ease the pain." She pressed the goblet into Tamara's shaking hands and helped her raise it to her lips. Once the goblet had been drained, Madame Pomfrey set it aside and began a barrage of questions. Eventually, it was established that Tamara was indeed on the mend and by that time Elizabeth had awakened too and had thrown overjoyed hugs at her cousin. Though Tamara's body still ached, she was glad to see her cousin. And though she desperately wanted to ask what had happened since the battle against Voldemort and how Elizabeth had come to be there, Madame Pomfrey quickly asserted her authority and made them all return to bed and get some rest for what was left of the night.

The next morning, Tamara woke feeling much more refreshed. The others were already up. Elizabeth was setting up a tray with fresh gobletfuls of potion and Madame Pomfrey was telling Harry and Snape that they were well enough to go now. Snape, of course, was unwilling and planted himself resolutely by Tamara's side. Harry looked uncomfortable, looking as though he wanted to leave but seeming to seek their permission to go. Tamara smiled at him.

"Its okay, Harry. Go see your friends. I bet they'll want to see you." She told him.

"Thanks for everything, Tamara. We couldn't have done it without you." He told her, turning to leave. "I'm glad you're going to be okay." He added, smiling shyly before disappearing from the room. Elizabeth gave Tamara the fresh goblet of smoking potion. Tamara took it but her thoughts wandered back to Harry's words; _We couldn't have done it without you... _He had, of course, been referring to the defeat of Voldemort. And though she was glad it was all over, she couldn't help but feel mixed emotions at the same time.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked, knowing her cousin well enough to know when there was something on her mind.

"Yes," Tamara replied, "it's just... Voldemort. I'm glad it's all over and everything but..." her words trailed away.

"You don't regret what happened in the battle do you?" Elizabeth asked, wearing a troubled expression.

"No, but despite the betrayal and all the terrible things he did he was still my father. It's just a lot to process." Tamara replied, suddenly unable to look anyone in the face and opting instead to stare at her hands.

"I can't imagine what you must be going through but you know we're here for you. Whatever we can do to help, just name it." Elizabeth told her, drawing her into a hug. Tamara forced a smile and allowed herself to be cradled by her cousin as tears began to stain her cheeks.

Later that day, Tamara convinced Snape to go and get something to eat and Jez and Thalia came to visit. Glad to see her friends, she brightened considerably. With them, they brought a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ and told her about an argument that McGonagall'd had with several reporters who wanted to interview the three heroes who had defeated Voldemort. The argument had ended with the reporters sprouting unpleasant green tentacles from their noses and they had run away clutching their faces with embarrassment. Tamara laughed and at that moment Snape returned. Jez and Thalia offered him a respectful nod and left the two to enjoy share some quite time together.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, gently, when the two girls had left.

"I can't wait to get out of this damn bed." Tamara replied, truthfully. "I feel much better. I think the rest helped. I just feel a little stiff now." She leaned forward to kiss him; the first kiss they'd shared since the battle had ended. Snape welcomed the feel of her lips against his and relished the kiss. The night before he had feared for her life, believing that he would never enjoy her sweet kisses again. Having her back again, he couldn't help but enjoy her kiss with more passion and vigour than ever before.


	38. Aftermath, Part 2

**Author Note:** #Update to author note# I realise that some of the punctuation was missing. Sorry about that. I have fixed it up so it should be easier to read and make sense of.

* * *

Since I skipped last week, I decided to post this early instead of making you all wait until friday. Well, we're getting close to the end now and what a ride its been! After so many years this is finally coming to a close. I think I will definitely miss Tamara. Anyway, this comes with a light warning for adult themes. Yes it's what you think it is, but no its not graphic so if that's what you've been waiting for then you're reading the wrong story! LOL!

Thanks to the following for reviews: Alishaoftroy - as always you are an enthusiastic and supportive reader, so thankyou very much. I too will be sad for the story to come to a close. It will be strange for it to end after such a long time. Dontgotaclue88 - I hope this lives up to expectations ;) Elza - I like the Snape/Harry stuff too. I feel like they deserved to have a bit more of a resolution than they did in the books. There is a scene in this chapter that will hopefully make all that a bit clearer though. And Wendy Waddles - as ever you are dedicated and thoughtful with your reviews. I'm glad they're all safe too. I couldn't bring myself to kill any of the other main characters even if it would be dramatic and make an impact. I did promise a relatively happy ending didn't I? LOL! And thanks to Lotus Elise for adding this to your story alerts. I hope you enjoy it.

The next chapter will be available as usual on friday next week; the 14th of January. Hope you all had a great christmas and new year celebrations and that you're all well.

**Chapter 38 - Aftermath, Part 2**

At last, the following day, Madame Pomfrey allowed Tamara to leave the hospital wing. Since Snape was not there at the time, Tamara was left to navigate the castle with Elizabeth. Together, they walked arm in arm to visit the places that they were likely to find Snape. If he returned to the hospital wing to find that she was not there then he would likely worry.

The first place Tamara aimed for was Snape's old office and so she led Elizabeth down into the cold bowels of the castle. As Elizabeth had spent most of her time working in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey, she hadn't had an opportunity to see much of the castle and so she found the present journey fascinating. Lit oil lanterns adorned the walls and suits of armour turned their heads to watch them as they walked. What Elizabeth found particularly perplexing, however, was the greetings and congratulations offered to Tamara by the figures in the paintings which hung on the walls. Unaccustomed to moving and talking pictures, Elizabeth had jumped in fright the first time they were addressed by one of the portraits. Tamara, however, had merely responded with a nod and a smile, clearly used to the castle's eccentricities.

When they arrived at Snape's office they found that he was not there and that it was as tightly sealed as it would have been during the course of the previous year. Not to be deterred, Tamara followed the corridor and led Elizabeth to the dungeons. Snape stood at one of the benches of their old classroom, his back to the door as he stirred a bubbling potion.

"What potion are you working on?" Tamara asked, her voice piercing the silence. Snape looked up, surprised to find that it was Tamara who greeted him.

"I thought it would be prudent to replenish the hospital wing's supplies." He replied. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Madame Pomfrey let me leave." Tamara told him.

"She has recovered well," Elizabeth cut in, "but she has to take it easy. We don't want her under any strain." Elizabeth looked pointedly at Tamara. Tamara swatted her cousin away playfully. She still felt stiff and tired, it was true, but in all other respects she felt so much improved that she almost felt like her old self again. And for the first time, the weight of her responsibility to the wizarding world had been lifted. She had done her duty and though it had been emotionally wrenching, she felt relieved and uplifted nonetheless. At last she could begin to put her life back on track and at last she was free to begin her life with Snape.

Snape gestured to them to come towards him. "Perhaps your cousin might like to learn a little about potion making. I trust you recognise this one." With that, he passed the spoon to Tamara who tentatively leaned forward to inspect the contents of the cauldron. After a moment she recognised it as a general pain reliever and began to add ingredients, explaining the significance of each one to Elizabeth before adding it to the cauldron. Snape stood back and watched with interest, marveling at Tamara's knack for teaching and the ease with which she slipped into the art of potion making.

* * *

Harry sat before the warm fire of the Gryffindor common room, gazing at the flames, though at the same time not really seeing them at all. Ron and Hermione watched from a distance as their friend brooded. Though they wanted to go to him, they knew better than to try to force him to talk. His whole life had been aimed at neutralising this one threat and now that it was over they were left with the task of rebuilding their lives from what remained of the carnage that Voldemort had left behind. It would take some time for them all to become accustomed to this new Voldemort-free life.

For Harry, though, this was far from his mind. His mind whirred unceasingly with thoughts of what Snape had confessed to him in the hospital wing. At first, he hadn't quite believed it. He recalled what he had seen in the pensieve in his fifth year; Snape's memory of being tormented at his father s hand. His mother had defended Snape but he had called her a mudblood and told her that he didn't need her help. From what little he knew of Snape's childhood, it was impossible to believe that he had any close friends, let alone that his mother was one of them. And yet... Harry had always been told of his mother's unfailing kindness. Of course she would have tried to help Snape. But were they really friends as Snape had said? Snape had explained that he had met Harry s mother long before they began their Hogwarts education; that they had been childhood companions who had bonded over the fact that they were the only ones their age that they knew of who possessed innate magical ability. The look in Snape's eyes as he recalled the memory told Harry that it was true. But was there more to what Snape said? Had his actions over the years been solely based on loyalty to a childhood friendship or had there perhaps been love involved?

Snape, of course, hadn't confessed to that. He had simply referred to a friendship and so Harry took him at his word. But then, even if it was as Snape had said... a close friendship... Harry thought he understood those feelings. For years, Ron and Hermione had been the only two who had remained unfailingly loyal to him. When the others had questioned his motives, Ron and Hermione had stood by him and in his darkest hours when all hope seemed lost he had valued that unquestioned support more than anything else in the world. Was that how Snape had felt about his Mother? Was that the sort of loyalty that motivated his actions? It made sense to Harry and with that thought lingering on his mind, he rose from his place in front of the fire to turn his attention to his two best friends.

* * *

When Tamara, Elizabeth and Snape finally decided to finish potion-making for the day it was time for dinner and together they made their way to the Great Hall. Although dinner was already underway, they were not the first to arrive. People came and went at their leisure and they were greeted by more than one group of people along the way. Though Tamara accepted these greetings with humility, Snape seemed to be the most uncomfortable with being in the spotlight. Tamara understood this. He seemed to have drawn solace from working alone behind the scenes over the years. It had given him a sense of freedom not to be scrutinised by the public eye. Now all that had changed and his discomfiture with that was obvious. Elizabeth, who didn't know anyone else besides Madame Pomfrey and who was a muggle to boot, felt equally uncomfortable. Harry, however, was used to being in the public eye and though he didn't relish it, he was most accustomed to it and had already joined his friends at one of the tables.

The seating arrangements did not appear to be organised by house. Adults sat among the students; the Weasley's had joined Harry, Ron, Hermione and the other Gryffindors at the nearest table, along with Hagrid who took up at least half of the table all by himself. Jez and Thalia sat nearby, and even Adelaide had finally been released from the hospital wing and was lost in earnest conversation with her two friends. They all had a lot of catching up to do. Juliet and Draco, however, sat in a corner by themselves. They didn't speak to one another but sat in silence with their hands clasped on top of the table. It was clear to see that Draco was in mourning for his mother and all at once Tamara remembered the enormous price that they had all paid for their victory. And as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces she realised with a heavy heart that there were more empty seats than were filled. The losses were incalculable. Tamara squeezed Snape's hand, realising how incredibly lucky she was that she, her loved ones (Snape and Elizabeth) and her friends had emerged from the battle alive and she knew that there would never be another moment with them that she would take for granted.

McGonagall sat at the high table. Some of the teachers had opted to sit amongst the students, Flitwick and Hagrid particularly, but others still chose to take their usual seats and made small talk with the Headmistress. When Tamara appeared in the Hall, accompanied by Snape and her muggle cousin, McGonagall stopped short mid-conversation and watched them as they apprehensively took in their surroundings. When Tamara squeezed Snape s hand, McGonagall was reminded of the scene in her office before the battle had begun and how she had wondered what sort of relationship they shared. The same thoughts were provoked again. The idea of anyone penetrating the protective barrier that Snape had used to keep everyone at arm s length was astounding and the thought that someone as intelligent as the young Miss Edgecombe could fall for the grumpy old potions master was even more so. But then, intelligence was something that they had in common and considering Tamara s background then they had both probably faced their share of difficulties over the past year. Maybe they had bonded over their shared troubles. Perhaps it was the old lady in her that made her feel so inquisitive, but she couldn't help but want to know.

Presently, however, McGonagall pushed these thoughts aside. She was the Headmistress and the moment called for decorum and responsibility. Rising from her seat, she made her way across the hall towards the trio.

"There are places for you all at the high table." McGonagall said, not quite able to look Snape in the face.

"Actually, Professor, would you mind if I sat with my friends?" Tamara asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Of course."

As McGonagall retreated to the High Table, Tamara grabbed Snape's hand and headed towards Jez, Thalia and Adelaide. Snape, however, pulled his hand back.

"Perhaps I should sit at the high table." He told Tamara in a low whisper.

"What on earth for?" Tamara asked, surprised.

"It wouldn't be proper." He replied, uncomfortably. "You were once my student."

"Oh come on, Severus, loads of teachers are sitting with the students." Tamara told him, jovially.

"Perhaps, but under any other circumstances I would never have done so." Snape stubbornly stood his ground. It was clear that he didn't want any more attention than he could help.

"You helped to defeat Voldemort. You saved the freaking world! You have every right to sit where you like. Protocol can go to hell." Tamara fought back. And with that, Tamara led him towards the table to join Jez, Thalia and Adelaide. The girls welcomed the three happily, greeting Snape respectfully though they were most excited to meet Elizabeth and before long they were lost in conversation. Tamara listened with amusement as she loaded her plate with roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings while Flitwick took a seat beside her.

"I always knew you had potential." He began, happily. "You did Ravenclaw proud you know." And on Flitwick went, chattering away. Tamara shot a smirk at Snape who managed to smirk back at her and so the hours were wiled away in this fashion until finally Flitwick decided to retire for the night.

"I thought he'd never leave." Snape whispered to Tamara who laughed and rose to her feet. Together, the group of friends joined the throng of people who were making their way out of the Great Hall. Tamara said goodnight to Jez and Thalia who made their way back to Ravenclaw tower. McGonagall joined the rest of them at the foot of the stairs. Adelaide was permitted to take her old bed in Ravenclaw tower and hurried off to join Jez and Thalia, while Elizabeth, Tamara and Snape were led up toward the teacher s apartments. Elizabeth was shown into one of the empty apartments and McGonagall, blushing, suggested that there might be room enough in Snape's old quarters for he and Tamara to share. Stuttering and glowing bright red, McGonagall hurried away before another word could be said. Tamara grinned with amusement. Snape, however, was perplexed at the interchange. He had never been subject to the sort of presumption and scrutiny that McGonagall was displaying. _Nosy old busy-body_, he thought to himself. But grudgingly, he forced himself back to the present and the waiting Tamara. Uttering the password, a large tapestry suddenly rolled itself up to reveal a door which subsequently swung open. Offering his hand to Tamara, he led her inside.

Finally they were alone in the privacy of his quarters. Snape sank into an overstuffed armchair and rubbed his temple. It was strange to think that it was all finally over, that there was nothing to take him away from Tamara when morning came around once more. For the first time, they simply had each other and there were no longer any obstacles to their relationship. It was a strange feeling, liberating, though all the same it was a little daunting. The freedom, normality, was something that was foreign to him.

Tamara gazed about the room; Snape's old living quarters. It was tastefully decorated, she decided. Black velvet curtains hung over the window and matching drapes surrounded the four poster bed. A single wrought iron candle-lit lantern sat on a small mahogany table with a matching chest of drawers standing nearby. Books lined one of the walls and a large fireplace faced the bed, with a plush rug on the floor in front of it. The whole room seemed to have a medieval gothic atmosphere about it, and Tamara knew that she would be quite comfortable here.

Presently, she turned her attention back to Snape who was now watching her with a bemused expression. She smiled, shyly, and moved towards him, leaning forward to hold his face in her hands as she gazed deeply, passionately, into his eyes. He returned her expression with equal intensity and she lost no time in joining him on the chair, straddling him as best as the chair allowed. She felt his arousal as she lowered her lips to his and all at once he tensed. Tamara didn't move away, but merely gazed at him with the same unceasing passion as she had done a few moments ago, and began to kiss him again. Finally, he began to relax and allowed himself to be caught up in her kiss as she moulded her body against his as his ever-increasing desire began to press tantalisingly against her.

Her hands crept down toward the waist-band of his trousers, playing with the button that fastened them together. After a moment, the button popped free of its restraints allowing Tamara to carefully lower the zip beneath. This was followed by the removal of her own robes, which were subsequently tossed to the floor, but before Tamara could go any further, Snape slipped his arms around her, scooping her up and getting to his feet. With her in his arms, he walked towards the bed and lay her on it. Sliding his trousers down over his hips, he stepped out of them before joining Tamara on the bed and pulling her into his embrace.

As she looked into Snape's eyes, Tamara suddenly felt her nerves jolt through her. It was really happening. The moment of union that they had both been waiting for had been given to them at last. Curling her leg around his waist, she pulled herself closer to him, clinging to the embrace as though she were terrified of being parted from him.

He brushed her hair away from her face and curling a finger beneath her chin he gently drew her lips toward his and she immediately relaxed, losing herself in the passionate kiss. But soon the kiss was not just a kiss. His hands crept to her hips and what happened next suddenly seemed as natural an evolution in their relationship as it was possible to be. They moved together in the sensual dance that was their love-making until they both collapsed back into the bed-sheets, panting with the exhilaration of their exertions.


	39. Restitution

**Author Note: **

Thanks to all who are still following this story. You guys are awesome! Hope you're all keeping well. Next chapter out on friday the 21st January. See you all then!

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**Chapter 39 – Restitution **

The next day dawned crisp and bright, the sun glinting on the soft layer of snow that had dusted the castle grounds during the night. Tamara stretched and lazily threw an arm over her face to block out the light that was now streaming in the bedroom window. After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the new light and she let her arm drop back onto the bed, remarking at how comfortable the quilt and the pillows were. Snape still lay beside her. Remarkably, he was still asleep. Usually, it was he who awoke first, if he was even still there at all. It was an entirely new experience for her to simply wake up beside him with a normal day ahead. The idea of finally being able to sleep in made her feel more comfortable still. The morning chill, however, cloaked the room and inducing in her a small shiver. Reaching toward the bedside table for her wand, she sat up and pointed it at the fire place, conjuring a magical fire that popped and crackled merrily in the grate. Settling back against the pillows in the new warmth, she cast her eyes at Snape once more as she remembered the previous night. She smiled as the memory came back to her. What they had shared was an experience that provoked feelings in her that she could not yet name. She had felt exhilarated, ecstatic, overwhelmed and filled with love all at once. It was the most extraordinary feeling she had ever felt. She smiled at the thought of it and what the other students might say if they knew.

At that moment, Snape began to stir and when he opened his eyes he gazed at her with an odd expression on his face. He reached his hand out as if to touch her but retracted it at the last minute. For a brief moment, Tamara got the distinct impression that he felt like an awkward school boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Resisting the urge to laugh, she shifted toward him and snuggled up to him, letting her eyes drift closed in bliss. After a moment, he began to absently stroke her hair and before she knew it she had fallen asleep again.

* * *

Later that day, Tamara could be found in the Ravenclaw common room with her friends and joined by Elizabeth. After breakfast she'd had every intention of returning to the dungeons to help Snape with the continued task of brewing more stocks for the hospital wing, but Tamara had found the company of her friends so refreshing that Snape suggested she spend her time with them instead. Happily, she agreed and promised to visit him in a few hours. And so, she had gone back to Ravenclaw tower with the others.

Snape, meanwhile, had no sooner finished setting up a cauldron in the dungeons, and retrieved the appropriate ingredients from the store cupboard, when he was interrupted by the sudden arrival of one of the Hogwarts house elves. He resisted the urge to glare at the creature for taking him unawares. Instead, he turned away from the elf and continued to work as he spoke to it.

"What is it?" He asked, tersely, as he began to crush feverfew with a mortar and pestle. The elf trotted towards him uncertainly, clearly nervous about being in his presence.

"Sir is required to attend a meeting with the Minister for Magic." The elf squeaked. "Sir must go to the Ministry."

Snape stopped suddenly and turned to look at the elf, inquiringly. "The Ministry?" He asked, though more to himself than anything else. The elf shrank back under the intensity of Snape's gaze.

"Sir must go right away." The elf squeaked, swaying on the spot now. Snape nodded his response and the elf turned and fled from the room. Suddenly, a stomach-wrenching thought crossed his mind. Despite that the witches and wizards of Hogwarts had accepted his help in the battle that had taken place, he was still responsible for the death of the beloved Dumbledore. Now that he was no longer fleeing ordinary society, it seemed that the time had come to take responsibility for Dumbledore's plight.

Lamenting that he didn't have time to warn Tamara, he waved his wand at the potion-making equipment on the bench which subsequently began putting itself away again. Another flick of his wand and a fire immediately began crackling in the fireplace. He strode toward it, stopping only to retrieve a small jar of green powder from one of his desk drawers. He threw a handful of it into the fire, intoning in a deep and rich voice "ministry of magic". The flames suddenly turned a bright emerald colour and Snape stepped into the fire. Moments later he reappeared in the atrium at the Ministry. Taking a deep breath, he made his way through the corridors, his robes billowing behind him, until he reached the Minister's office. A small witch with large glasses and tightly curled hair sat behind a desk in the outer foyer. She stood as soon as she saw him and gestured to him to approach. As he did so, the witch knocked on a nearby door. A voice called "enter!" at which she peered inside the office. A moment later, she emerged and gestured to him to go inside.

Behind a large and highly polished desk sat a middle-aged wizard with short dark hair, broad shoulders and wire-rimmed glasses. Upon seeing Snape, the wizard took off his glasses, placed them on top of a pile of papers and clasped his hands in front of him.

"Professor Snape," the wizard addressed him, "My name is Jonas Broderick. I am the acting Minister for Magic. I thought it prudent to conduct this meeting here rather than intrude on you at Hogwarts."

"Indeed." Snape responded, curtly.

"Professor, this is a _delicate_ matter. I'm sure you understand the importance of cooperation." Jonas looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"Am I to understand that despite my part in helping to destroy the Dark Lord I am still to be held accountable for past _misdeeds_?" Snape pointedly asked. The acting minister looked taken aback.

"Well... we can hardly ignore the situation with Dumbledore. He was well loved by the entire wizarding community. You are responsible for his death. It hardly puts you in a positive light." Jonas paused, searching Snape's face scrutinisingly as though it might yield the answers he sought if he stared for long enough. "It might help if I understood why..."

"Would you believe me if I told you?" Snape replied, irritably.

"Of course. I know you to be a man of conviction and integrity. You have never acted without good reason. I simply wish to understand what that reason is." Jonas replied.

Snape watched him for a moment, a calculating expression on his face, until finally he broke the stare. He drew his wand and Jonas shrank back. But Snape didn't attack. He raised the wand to his temple and drew out a string of something silvery; a memory. He took a small crystal vial out of his pocket, dropped the memory into it and pushed the vial across the desk.

Jonas jumped up from his chair and unlocked a cupboard behind his desk with his wand. From inside the cupboard he took out a large stone basin that Snape immediately recognised. It was a pensive not unlike the one Dumbledore'd had, only the engravings were different. Jonas poured the memory into the pensive and leaned forward over it, allowing the images and thoughts contained within it to envelope him. All of a sudden, he was seeing the very thing that Snape had told Tamara so long ago on the night that Dumbledore had died; The ring Dumbledore had tried to destroy had inflicted him with an irreversible curse... he was dying and he had an idea; one that would preserve the innocence of young Draco Malfoy but would require incredible sacrifice on Snape's part. Snape would have to kill Dumbledore. Snape hadn't wanted to do it, but when Dumbledore spoke of fearing a pain-ridden and humiliating degeneration into death, Snape knew that he couldn't condemn the old man to that and so had agreed. And Jonas saw within this memory that the whole thing had been planned by Dumbledore himself and for heartbreaking reasons.

Jonas retreated from the memory and sat back in his chair, a look of shock overtaking his features as a low whistle of exclamation escaped his lips. "I had no idea."

Snape said nothing and turned his head away. Thoughts of Dumbledore invaded his mind and he suddenly found that he couldn't handle it. Taking a deep breath, he tried to maintain a calm facade though it took all the energy he had. Even so, Jonas could see that the man sitting opposite him was visibly shaken up and it was this more than anything that convinced him that what he had seen in the pensive was indeed the truth.

* * *

That evening, Tamara finally said goodbye to her friends and went back to the dungeons to rejoin Snape. Elizabeth accompanied her and arm in arm they walked through the castle together. To their surprise, however, Snape was not there when they arrived at the dungeons. There was no potion making equipment out on the bench and the ingredients all remained safely in the store cupboard. Tamara frowned in confusion but immediately turned on her heel to look for him in one of the other dungeon classrooms. Snape couldn't be found in any of them, and his office remained sealed. Worry beginning churn her stomach, Tamara led Elizabeth through all the places in the castle she could think of that Snape might be. He was nowhere to be found. Panicking now, Tamara even went to the headmistress's office to see if he was with Professor McGonagall. McGonagall had looked up with surprise from behind a stack of paperwork. It was clear that she had not seen Snape either.

Finally, exhausted, she accepted Elizabeth's advice to return to her quarters and get some much needed rest. "Don't leave me alone, Liz." Tamara had pleaded when they had reached the tapestry that hid the door that led to the living quarters she now shared with Snape. Elizabeth nodded and together they went inside.

An hour later, they both lay on the bed, Elizabeth's embracing Tamara comfortingly. All at once, a fire sprang to life in the fireplace, interrupting the silence with a great woosh. Tamara sat up and watched as the flames turned green. Then, finally, Snape appeared and stepped out from within the fire. Tamara leapt up from the bed and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Where were you? I was so worried." She said, looking at him with obvious concern in her eyes.

"Forgive me." He replied. "I was called to the Ministry of Magic and I was given no time to inform you."

"The Ministry? What did they want? Are you in trouble for Dumbledore..." Tamara asked the questions in a flurry. Snape pressed a finger to her lips to calm her.

"The acting Minister for Magic asked me about Dumbledore, yes. I have been exonerated, my love." He told Tamara, his lips curling upward in a small smile.

"Does this mean it's finally all over?" Elizabeth asked with wonderment.

"Not quite." Tamara told her. Elizabeth stared at her in confusion. "We still have one more thing to do..."


	40. One Door Closes

**Author Note:** Hi everyone! Well this is a week late I know and once more I'm terribly sorry for that. Things have just been a nightmare like you wouldn't believe! Thankyou to those who sent well wishes. It kept me going in what was an incredibly stressful and horrible week. And thank you also for reviews of the last chapter. Dontgotaclue88, Elza, and Wendy Waddles were kind enough to leave reviews and share their thoughts of the chapter 39 and lots of new people added the story to favourites lists so thanks to that too; Fonzfan, MrsEgghead, Keggy Chaos, LoganO112, and Inuhana. You guys have all been great.

Well this is the final chapter of the story. It's been a long time coming and I'm glad to give my little story the resolution that I never thought it would have. It has been an amazing experience and I am eternally grateful for the support you have all given me.

If some of you would like it, I might just write an epilogue to go after this so please let me know in reviews if you want that or not, otherwise I'll just leave it as it is.

Thanks once again and I hope you enjoy this. All the best!

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**Chapter 40 – One Door Closes**

Allison Edgecombe walked from the kitchen to the lounge, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning newspaper in the other. The headlines spoke of nothing out of the ordinary. There was another tax hike and the latest premier league scores were splashed over the front cover. Everything was normal in muggle England. John looked up at the approaching Allison.

"Anything interesting in the paper?" He asked off-hand.

"Just the usual tripe." Allison responded without looking up.

"Then perhaps you'd like to read this instead." John told her. With that, Allison looked up and saw that John was holding out a large rolled up piece of parchment, his expression grave. Hesitantly, Allison reached out and took it, putting the newspaper down on the coffee table.

Sitting down in the nearest armchair, she unrolled the parchment and saw that it was _The Daily Prophet_; the wizarding world's newspaper. "When did this arrive? We don't usually get _The Prophet_."

"It was on the doormat this morning when I woke up. Look at the headline." John replied, his voice betraying nothing.

Allison turned her attention back to _The Prophet_ and began to read. After a moment she let out a squeal. "Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed.

"Elizabeth was right after all." John said. Allison could hardly tear her eyes away from the words on the page. The great battle had descended on the wizarding world. Voldemort had waged his war and the witches and wizards of Hogwarts had fought back with their Tamara in the thick of it. It had all happened the night Elizabeth had appeared on their doorstep in a panic. Allison's heart pounded in her chest. Elizabeth had known. Somehow her intuition had told her what was happening and the thought of what their daughter had gone through was overwhelming. Tears began to well up in her eyes. John stared at his wife. He had been so wrong about Elizabeth. So very wrong...

* * *

Jez, Thalia and Adelaide walked toward the entrance hall with trepidation in their hearts. Tamara had come to see them the previous night. She, Elizabeth and Snape were leaving Hogwarts and the reason why had been unclear. Tamara had said that there was something that still needed to be done; a wrong that needed to be put right. Neither of them had understood what that meant and each of them wondered whether they would see Tamara again though neither wanted to voice that fear. Jez shot a subtle glance at Thalia and wondered whether her psychic friend knew what was going to happen, but the expression her gothic friend was sporting betrayed little. Jez took a deep breath and tried to force some order onto her thoughts as they walked closer and closer toward the entrance hall and the fateful final meeting with their best friend.

When they arrived at the entrance hall Tamara, Elizabeth and Snape were already there, dressed in travelling cloaks. Tamara was staring wistfully out of the window, with Snape's hand resting comfortably on her shoulder. It was still strange to see what was once a simple crush blossom into a relationship, and for Jez it would always be a little strange to think of their former professor in that way but they were all happy that Tamara had found love. She almost seemed to be a different person for it. Where once there was fear and an overwhelming sense of being one small person fighting against something so big, now there was a quiet confidence and strength about her.

Tamara turned away from the window to face her friends as she heard them approach. She offered them a smile but immediately it seemed to them that it was full of sadness. They all knew in an instant that their friend wasn't coming back. Tears welled up in Jez's eyes and before she knew what was happening, Tamara had stepped forward to draw her oldest friend into a tight hug.

"We'll see each other again." Tamara whispered, consolingly. Sniffing loudly, Jez nodded, trying hard to believe Tamara's words. One by one, they exchanged hugs with Tamara and Elizabeth, saying their tearful goodbyes. Tamara hoped they understood her reasons. While the wizarding world's biggest threat was now gone, Voldemort had left in his wake a shattered and broken reality. There was much to do to fix the things that he had broken and to try and rectify as many of the wrongs that he had committed, and the work was only just beginning.

When the goodbyes had been said and the time had finally come for Tamara and the others to leave, Jez suddenly leapt forward and grabbed Snape by the elbow. "Look after her." Jez whispered, urgency in her voice.

Calmly, Snape took her hand in his and gently removed it from his arm. "She is lucky to have such a caring friend." He whispered. "I give you my word."

With that, Jez stood back as Thalia reached forward to draw her friend into her arms. Adelaide joined the hug and wrapped her arms around Jez's waist, and together they watched as their friends turned to walk out of the front doors of Hogwarts castle. Who knew when they would see each other again?

* * *

They stood amongst the remains of diagon alley. Ministry officials had worked tirelessly over the last few days to remove the protective enchantments that the death eaters had cloaked the place with, and slowly shop owners had begun to return. At present they were assessing the damage and some had begun work on restoring their premises to their former glory. Before them towered Gringotts bank. Embellished with gold and intricate carvings, it was the epitome of power. This power had been misused by Voldemort but now its true masters, the goblins, were returning to reclaim it.

Elizabeth let out a low whistle. "It's amazing!" She exclaimed.

Tamara glanced at her cousin out of the corner of her eye and broke into a small smile. "Not what you expected?" She asked, wryly.

"No. I mean, it was the place you were abducted from by death eaters... how you first came to find out about Voldemort being your... well I guess I just expected it to be more ominous." Elizabeth replied.

Tamara turned her attention to the building in front of her, casting her thoughts back to her terrible memories of the place. But then, she was suddenly aware of someone at her side... Snape was taking her hand in his. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she led the way forward – this time to enter by the front doors.

Inside, goblins could be seen everywhere, working tirelessly to prepare Gringotts for opening to the public once more, the pitter-patter of their feet echoing throughout the pendulous hall. After a moment, one of the goblins approached. He eyed the trio suspiciously for a long moment as though judging whether or not they were worthy to enter. After a moment, he inclined his head in a slight nod of respect, finally recognising them as the ones who had fought Voldemort.

"What can I do for you?" The goblin asked in a small squeaky voice.

Tamara knelt down in front of the goblin, so as to bring to herself to his level. "There's a vault deep inside the bank. The death eaters were using it for storage. Can you take us there?"

The goblin shuddered. "That's an evil place. None of us want to go down there."

"We've come to fix that, but I need you to show me the way." Tamara replied, speaking as gently as she could. The goblin considered her words for what seemed like an inordinately long time. When he finally gave his answer it was delivered in the form of a quick silent nod, upon which he turned on his heel and led them down into the bowels of the bank.

For the first part of the journey, they took the usual railway carts with Elizabeth and the goblin in one cart and Snape and Tamara in another. On and on the carts went, crashing over the railings at breakneck speed. And the further down they went, the darker it got with the lights above becoming smaller and smaller. There was no denying that this was an eerie place, and the chill in the atmosphere did little to help.

When the track ended the carts came to a stop and they continued on foot, led through the winding corridors by the goblin, with their only source of light coming from the few oil lamps that hung at intervals from the walls. And finally, Tamara began to recognise their surroundings. The abominable room where the human souls were kept lay just ahead.

The goblin stopped in his tracks. "This is as far as I go. You know the way from here?"

Tamara nodded. "Yes. Thank you for all your help."

"I'll wait for you near the carts." The goblin told them and without further ado, the goblin turned on his heels and disappeared into the darkness while Tamara led them toward their destination.

The room looked just as Tamara remembered. Rows and rows of shelves lined the walls and every spare inch of space was taken up with jars that contained the strange shimmery substance that Tamara knew to be the souls that Voldemort had stolen.

"What do you plan to do?" Snape softly asked, breaking the silence.

"I intend to free them." Tamara answered, simply.

Elizabeth instinctively reached down to touch the ring on her finger that had once belonged to Dumbledore. After a moment, she slid it off and offered it to Tamara. "I think you'll be needing this." She said. But Tamara shook her head in disagreement.

"No. I think the ring was meant for you. It was you who found it in the first place. I think it has to be you to use it now." Tamara told her. Elizabeth stared unbelievably until Tamara reached forward and placed the ring on her cousin's finger once more.

Snape and Tamara drew their wands, and Elizabeth raised the ring up in front of her. Standing together, their magic unified one last time and rocked the room with almighty explosion of white light. A moment later the sound of a thousand jars shattering could be heard all around them and shimmering blue tinged the white. Finally, the light subsided and they could see properly again. The souls were no longer imprisoned and even the shattered glass had magically disappeared. Somehow the atmosphere seemed lighter and they knew that at last the stolen souls had been freed.

Tamara smiled as their final task was accomplished. At last she could close the door on her old life and walk forwards to the new one that awaited her. And as they ventured back out of Gringotts and through Diagon Alley, the sun shone blissfully overhead, shining like it had never shone before. It was a beautiful day and Tamara knew that at last all was well with the wizarding world.

The End.


	41. Epilogue

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Author Note: This one is for Wendy Waddles, Dontgotaclue and Elza who have been there through it all. You have been an amazing support and I'm more grateful to you than I can express.

Wow I got a new reviewer since I posted my last chapter... Thanks Carin** for stopping by and letting me know what you think. I'm glad you have enjoyed it. I'm amazed that you read through the whole thing so quickly. Now that is a compliment to me :)**

Thanks to another two wonderful readers for adding "Fire and Ice" to favourites lists: Mrs Spicy and Wilting Tiger. You guys are awesome. Thanks!

**Goodness I can't believe this will be my last ever post for this story. What a journey it's been! I will miss it, but I am glad to give the story it's resolution. Five years ago I never thought I would see this day so it feels like a big accomplishment for me. Thanks to everyone who has read the story and is still here reading this note at the start of the epilogue! You stuck with it and for that I am very grateful! I'm sure I didn't deserve this many wonderful readers after I took such a long break from writing, but I am glad that I took it back up again last year. It's been great fun!**

**Happy reading and I hope to cross paths with you again in the future. All the best! xxxxxx**

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**Epilogue**

_~ Hail, Memory, hail! In thy exhaustless mine,_

_From age to age unnumbered treasures shine!_

_Thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey,_

_And Place and Time are subject to thy sway._

_Thy pleasures most we feel when most alone,_

_The only pleasure we can call our own._

_Lighter than air, Hope's summer visions die_

_If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky;_

_If but a beam of sober Reason play,_

_Lo! Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away;_

_But can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power,_

_Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour?_

_These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight,_

_Pour round her path a stream of living light,_

_And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest._

_Where Virtue triumphs and her sons are blest ~_

_- Samuel Rogers_

_Three Years Later..._

Long blonde hair shimmered against the dazzling white of the dress that clung to her curves and butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought that she was actually wearing her wedding dress.

"He's going to love it." Jez told Juliet as she secured the hem with another pin, shaking Juliet out of her reverie.

The blonde smiled at Jez. "I have no doubt. Your design is exquisite." Jez felt her stomach squirm with pleasure at the compliment as she recalled a conversation she'd had with Tamara long ago. She had told her best friend that her ambition was to be a fashion designer but that her father's sentiments had held her back. Now, three years later, she had decided to follow her dreams and Juliet's wedding was set to be her debut. It would be a momentous occasion for them both.

Finished with pinning the dress, Jez rose to her feet and invited Juliet to look at herself in the full length mirror that stood in the corner of the room. Moving tentatively, Juliet stepped in front of the mirror and gasped, tears welling in her eyes. Without hesitation, she pulled Jez into a tight hug.

"Thank you." Juliet whispered.

Later that day, when Jez had gone home for the night, Juliet sat curled up on the couch as she thumbed through a catelogue of flower arrangements. The door swung open and Draco greeted his bride-to-be with a kiss.

"They said yes." He said, simply, his cheeks flushed.

"Really?" Juliet exclaimed, dropping the catelogue in surprise.

"Yes. The Ministry gave me permission to create the new watch-dog department. I'll extinguish corruption from the Ministry, just you wait and see." Draco told her, a fierce tinge in his voice. Juliet immediately knew that he was thinking of his father, Lucius, and recalled his vow that no-one else would be hurt by men like his father if he could help it. She reached forward and drew Draco into her embrace, admiring the strength of his determination.

* * *

Tamara waved goodbye to Elizabeth as they left the Ministry. They had both worked hard over the past three years and were finally ready to move forward to new and exciting times. After the terrible battle with Voldemort, Elizabeth had been rewarded for her brave and selfless help in treating the wounded. She had been given permission to study herbology and aspects of wizarding healing in the hopes that a new branch of healing could be created incorporating muggle medicine that was soon to be trialled at St. Mungo's. Elizabeth had proven to be passionate about the prospect and was elated that the time had finally come to begin the trial.

Tamara, however, had been torn over what path to take. Her grades and her part in the war meant that she could have chosen anything she pleased. Her power and experience would have made her a good auror but memories had come flying back to her of how she had once loved the idea of embarking on a career as a healer, and her love of potions had also instilled in her a fascination with the prospect of teaching. After all, Hogwarts was still in desperate need of teachers. The battle had robbed the school of many of its staff members and replacements had been hard to come by. While Snape now taught the subject he had always coveted, Defence Against the Dark Arts, other positions had been filled largely by aging teachers who had been convinced to come out of retirement on the condition that permanent employees be found, meaning that Tamara could indeed choose to teach potions if she wished. In the end, it was this that she had chosen and at present she made her way toward the train station having decided to take the Hogwarts Express for old time's sake.

As dusk began to shroud the castle in darkness, she sat in the staff room with the other teachers, Snape sitting in an overstuffed armchair beside her. Once McGonagall had told them all they needed to know for the coming school year, which was due to start the following week, Tamara was whisked away by a teacher who was also starting this year: Thalia. After Professor Trelawney's untimely demise in the battle three years prior, Thalia had been promised the position of Divination teacher if she completed the required educational training.

Arm in arm, the two girls walked the corridors of the castle together talking about everything. They spoke of what had become of Harry his friends... Harry had almost finished auror training, as had Ron, while Adelaide had returned to school to finish her studies and was on the cusp of graduation. And though Tamara hadn't seen much of their old friend Hermione, the two had still managed to catch up on occasion and Tamara was happy to report that she was excelling in her higher education as only Hermione could. Tamara and Thalia also discussed the upcoming wedding between Juliet and Draco which was steered only too easily to the topic of Tamara's relationship with Snape. Thalia pressed her, wanting to know when they were likely to hear wedding bells for the duo. Tamara blushed and said nothing though the expression betrayed by her eyes asked the question for her. What did her psychic friend see in the future for she and Snape? Thalia smiled knowing what Tamara wanted to ask, and as she searched the depths of her soul for the answer they both realised that they didn't need to ask that question at all. Tamara trusted her feelings for Snape, and his for her. Not only had they survived the darkest times in Wizarding history but their relationship had continued to grow, even in spite of the long absences that they'd had to endure while she was away studying at the Ministry to become a teacher with Snape remaining at Hogwarts to take up the Defence Against the Dark Arts post. They had survived all this and Tamara remained as strong and sure about their relationship as ever.

* * *

Later that night, Snape and Tamara retired to their shared quarters together. With a subtle wave of his wand, Snape lit a fire in the grate which spread it's heat to the farthest reaches of the room, banishing the cold that hung in the air. With a wry smile, he drew her toward him in a tight embrace. She smiled back at him as she pulled him toward the bed so that they both fell into the blankets together, losing themselves in each other's touch with the same urgency that they had felt on their first night together three years ago. And as they lay huddled together they let sleep crash over them, comforted with the thought that tomorrow, and every night after, they would be able to fall asleep together all over again. Fire and ice had finally come together and the world's elements were balanced in perfect unison once more.


End file.
